Running On Empty
by PickleDillo
Summary: A modern day woman dropped into the "ass end of Thedas" and forced to contend with demons, mages, and the occasional unwelcomed everything. With no idea how to use anything more sophisticated than a sledgehammer, Jaime makes her way through this chaotic mess and prays it's just some typical, cliché movie trope that she'll wake up in her world after a who-knows-how-long coma.
1. ACT I: I Can't Do This

**Running On Empty:** _I Can't Do This_

 _(Unbeta-ed)_

 **Note:** _The story follows a modern day damsel in complete distress, realism(ish) and first-person view. Read, comment, or follow to keep up with Jaime's story._

 _This story follows the non-linear, open world questing found in DA:I, but it does not follow the events/quest in perfect harmony. Out-of-order questing and character development abound._

 _Thank you, and enjoy your read!_

* * *

There was a coal in my hand, burning through my palm and into my bones. My fingers were numb from how hard I clenched, but nothing I did released the tension. My hand wouldn't let go of whatever I was holding. My eyes flew open with a inhale so sharp I felt my sinuses fire up and I sneezed into a cough. Not the most graceful of ways to wake up, but at least I was awake.

Or so I thought. The woman that towered over me looked like a viper, fanged and bitter and vengeful. I inhaled again to speak, but her hand snapped out and snagged my wrist, bringing my burning hand up to the forefront. I blinked hard and nearly vomited on her feet - my hand was _glowing._ My attention was brought back to her as she yanked on my wrist, her mouth moving.

"I - what?" I missed all of it, not a single word she had said entered my brain. Another woman swam into my watery vision, cloaked and stern like her partner, but not as forceful. The viper was made to release my hand and I tumbled forward in alarm. This time, I did vomit, much to the disgust of the two ladies in front of me. I blinked hard and took a quick look around me, but it did me no good, my vision was still blurred by my tears and the room was dark and dank. I could feel the moisture through my knees and in the air I breathed now. _Where am I?_

"We _need_ her, Cassandra." One of them muttered, clearly displeased. _No, please, by all means, I would rather not be needed by anyone in my current state._ The vomit was on my hands and it did nothing to cover the glowing crater that was my left palm. I swallowed against another violent heave of my stomach and wished it had picked a different time to protest. Was that pasta? _When was the last time I ate pasta?_

I was yanked again, this time up to my feet and I stumbled even more when I was suddenly slapped by a case of indecision and vertigo. To walk or not to walk, and my capturer left no room for argument, so I walked. I was dragged outside and the blinding sky stabbed my eyes and brought more tears into my vision. Now I could not see at all aside from the green tint that colored the sky above me.

"It is the Breach. The sky ripped open and demons now pour out in masses." My viper explained. My head reared back with a snap and I shook my head, eyes glued to the giant, blistering scar in the clouds.

"No, that's impossible!" Demons! What demons? The only demons I had ever heard of were from a bygone age of my poor Catholic grandmother saving me from hell. I stared and stepped forward, alarmed by how casually this woman could just talk about _demons_. My hand flared to life, angrily annoyed that it had been forgotten for so long, and the lightning it struck through me shot up my limb and rendered me numb. My knees shook and I dropped like a sorry sack of potatoes.

"It's connected to your mark." The woman was closer and in the green light of terror I could see her face; less viper, but no less bitter. Her pretty face was contorted and she had no love for me, for whatever I had done to piss her off. She pointed to my hand and I looked down instinctively, the scar across my palm impossibly real and glowing still. "Each time the Breach expands, your mark grows. We feel it may be connected, and that this," she yanked my wrist again, the shackles I wore clinking, "may be the only way we have to stop it."

"This is insane!" I snapped and took back my body part, pulling from her grip with all the strength I could muster. I think it was only because I yelled at her and startled her that I was able to pull away, I wasn't an idiot, I could clearly see the sword on her hip and the shadow of a shield at her back. Where the fuck was I?

The woman growled at me, "Hundreds of people are dead because of this, and _you_ may be the only one who can stop it!" A crowd was starting to gather around us, people covered in strange, rustic clothing. I shifted my hips back and attempted to wiggle away, but the woman grabbed my ankle to stop me, her glare intensifying tenfold. "You will either face this Breach or face my sword, it is your decision, prisoner!"

I stopped and stared, from her hand on my ankle to her face. _Prisoner?_ Where was I that prisoners were coerced and locked up in shackles? What was this, a renaissance fair? I glanced back up at the sky and my body shook as I answered her, "I c-can't do anything! I - you have no idea if this w-would actually work!"

"We are dead either way, one must at least try!" She growled and shook her grip on my ankle. I flinched at her strength; confirmed now that I only managed to escape her hold the last time because I startled her with my outburst. I looked up at the sky again and swallowed. This was insane, this was fucking _insane_ , I couldn't do this, I couldn't do what she wanted!

"Prisoner!"

"Alright!" I screamed. The tears were renewed and I wasn't sure if I cried out of fear of her, or what I was just forced into facing. "A-alright, I'll come, I'll f-follow you." I sobbed as she nodded and took me by the arm, hot tears streaming down my face as I was marched as if to the gallows (right? Because what else would they fucking have here) and the weight of the crowds' stares bore down around me, burning my shoulders. I stared at our feet and wondered at the sight, she wore high, hard boots, made of some kind of leather I couldn't recognize. My boots were made of a strong cow leather, but nothing at all like what she had.

I was dressed for riding my motorcycle, a tight, leather jacket, armored along with my pants, my gloves were gone (they probably took them when the glowing shit appeared on my hand), and my boots. I don't know who looked weirder, her and her armor and shield and sword, or myself dressed like some kind of leather-bound book with shackles next to her, dragged along like a dead cat.

"Open the gate! We're heading to the Breach!" I looked up as she yelled and watched as the crowd parted around us as we walked, the guards ahead of us pulling the massive wooden door open. The people around us surged like a wave, away from the door and into their tents. I felt for them, more so now as I walked to certain death, because there was no way I was going to stop this, and this madness would come for them eventually. _I'm so sorry._

"They want retribution." My captor growled; another yank to my arm. "The Breach destroyed the Conclave and the Temple of Ashes, and _you_ were the only one to come out alive. Our Most Holy is dead and we are left with..." She exhaled and swallowed the rest of her sentence. I closed my eyes and more tears spilled, I was trapped with religious fanatics, and that was just peachy. I refused to apologize, even if the words were at the tip of my tongue, instinctive and ready. This wasn't my fault, _none_ of this was my fault.

Once we hit past the gate that held back the world, she had us at a run. I jogged alongside her as best I could, but she had a longer stride than me, most likely taller than I was, or more accustomed to covering ground with her legs rather than another form of transportation. Once more, I was struck by a sudden, shrill, mental shriek of _where am I_ and it fell dead on my tongue, because who here would care? Certainly not my viper, and certainly not the mutinous crowd back in the fortifications. Wherever I was, I was alone.

She was explaining something again, but I ignored it, I was focused on keeping myself running (and vaguely hoped I would be run off a cliff if my viper proved angry enough). I only stopped when the sky screamed and lurched above us, the clouds sailing away and a pulse of terrified heat went through my palm and back up my arm. _I'm getting really fucking tired of that_ , my throat constricted and I gave a strangled, gasping scream as I dropped and ate dirt as I crashed face first into the icy ground.

My viper was immediately on me and pulled me up, her hands on my shoulders. I was still sobbing, apparently, because she hesitated and her hand came up to my face, wiping away the tears as they piled up on my cheeks and slipped down my face. I turned away from her hand and brushed what I could of my face against my shoulder. Her voice was soft, or at least softer than before, "It's the Breach. Every time it has expanded, we've seen your mark grow. This may end it." It wasn't the words of Gospel, but it was something. I sniffed hard and rubbed my nose on the leather sleeve under the shackles of my wrist and stood when she prompted me. My knees were still shaking.

"Come," she murmured once I was steady, "We're almost there."

Again, no huge comfort, but it was a means to an end; because this couldn't be anything else than a nightmare. Another hard sniff and I locked my knees as I ran, a jarring experiencing, but it kept me upright and prepared me marginally for any surprise shocks that rained down from above. We reached another gate way, it led to a bridge and I hesitated, slowing as my viper sped past me. I ducked my head when she stopped and trotted up to her obediently.

She sighed, "After this, sh -"

It was classic, really. It shouldn't have been so funny, but I was hysterical. I screamed and it strangled itself into a laugh as we were shot by a bolt of green lightning, the groundwork exploded under us and the viper and I were separated. Panic, true and new and revived, flared in my chest. She was it, she was the only one that was my anchor, no one else would watch out for me, not if what she said was true about retribution. Whatever had happened, whatever had created this _Breach_ was connected to me, I would be dead by nightfall if she was gone, if the Breach didn't kill me first.

I came up with a scream, nonsensical and empty. My viper was gone and around me were the ruined bodies of other unfortunate souls. I crawled away from the cracking ice under me and reached for the nearest thing. A long sledgehammer type item, with a broken metal head, but reinforced wooden handle. It was something and it was enough for whatever it was that was sliding up behind me. I turned and swung with whatever I had left in me after my hysteria.

It mattered, too, because whatever the fuck it was that had just prowled up on me was the thing of straight, acid-induced nightmares. It was cloaked in tattered and shredded skin, blackened as if burnt crispy, and bloodied from its head down to its nonexistent feet. Another wild scream escaped me and I swung harder, bringing the sledgehammer up and over my head and shoulder before I drove it into the skull of the approaching monster.

 _A demon_ , my viper's voice echoed through my head. It smelt of rot and anti-freeze and vomit, and vomit I nearly did (for the second, or third time today), but I took another wild flail of my arm and caught it with a nasty slap of metal to its cheek. The creature howled and burst into flames, sparking like electricity soon after and dissipating into the frosted wind. I shook with my labored breathing, nothing I inhaled stayed with me, vertigo and nausea warred with my stomach and finally I gave up and rolled over to press my forehead to the iced surface of the lake.

"Drop your weapon." My viper was behind me, her voice about as icy as the wind that surrounded us. I laughed and my breath fogged the surface of the lake, my body shook with my effort to look up at her. Her sword was pointed at me and I realized I still clung to the sledgehammer like a lifeline. I dropped it and kicked it toward her from my prone position on the ice.

"Y-you're kidding me, r-right?" Goddamn it, I was crying again. Yet another wave of tears, but I spat at her. "Take the g-goddamn thing! N-nothing here is g-going to save me, n-not even you!" The wind picked up around us and pulled at my jacket and froze my hands, or rather, my right hand froze than my left. I swallowed at the thought of the unworldly thing that slept in my palm and cried harder, hoping against everything that these demons obeyed _some_ laws of physics and didn't come bursting from my hand as they were from the sky.

"... No, I'm sorry." She moved closer and picked up the hammer, placing it in my hand as she righted me to look over my face. Her expression pinched and it pulled at the scars along her cheek, but she relented with a sigh and tightened my grip on the handle. "I cannot expect you to go defenseless, and I cannot always protect you. Take it, I shall remember that you gave up your weapon willingly."

"Hah," I scoffed darkly, but wrapped my hand around the sledgehammer. It was a busted, old thing, but it would do. I spied the swords and shield that were scattered around us on the lake, bows and quivers of arrows, but those would do nothing for me, I had no practice with them, nor the patience to learn on the fly (and there was a chance, a high chance, that I would hit my viper in the back of the head if I tried). I stood on wobbly legs and jelly knees and followed her again, up along a slope and down to another valley. As we got closer, the sounds of weapons biting and people screaming drew closer.

"You can hear them fighting still!" My viper had taken the lead, carving a path through the snow with her boots and shield. I tripped along behind her, on her heels like a hound and braced against the wind. We dove down into another valley that spread into a lake, or continued from the lake that we had crossed. More demons were shot down from the sky and swarmed us, some new and wrapped in green, ghostly sighs that spat their essence at us and fled from the Viper's blade.

I stayed close, or as close as I could with her swinging like a madwoman. I didn't dare help more than needed, she clearly possessed a skill for her weaponry that I could only sniff at, and she handled herself well enough. I stayed at her back and flailed madly at anything that tried to come up from behind her. My hammer felt useless, it swam through the demons like butter and I felt little to no impact with some of them, but it made them disappear and that was good enough for me.

"Keep going, we are almost there!" She had turned on me once the last of the demons had been dealt with and shoved me ahead of her. I wasn't sure if that was for safety or precaution, but I wasn't going to ask, my feet had already taken command of my path and trudged me up the hill and over a crest, coming to a decimated series of walls and buildings. My eyes grew wide as I spied the battle before us, multiple figures drowning in the shade of green light that poured right from the middle of _nothing_. A scar, green and glowing and angry, floating in midair and spewing demons. The viper came up behind me and shoved; I had no choice in the matter, after all.

I fell into the fight and swung at the first thing that came at me, another of those demons that appeared to be wearing cloaks of burnt skin. I dug in my heel and gripped the wooden handle like a baseball bat and funneled my rage and fear into the swing. All this madness, all this chaos, because of _them_ , my life in the balance in the favor of death _because of them_. Hell yes, they were going to feel it. If I was going to die, then I was going to make sure these bastards felt every inch that we had to fall _together._

"Cassandra, here!" A new voice, male, shouted from downwind and my viper (Cassandra, I heard that name before I think), came up behind me and led me to the center of the fight, where the split in the air hissed and sparked at anything around it, lashing out with tendrils of energy and spitting out a demon here and there for good measure. A man came up beside me and took a firm grip over my wrist and hauled it up to the scar, I nearly yanked back as something pulled from within my palm, something felt latched to the tendon of my wrist and it bit down hard, pulling me forward.

"The fuck you _don't!_ " I shouted at nothing, wiggling in the other man's grip and pulling. He sensed my shift, it seemed, and pulled with me, dragging a long length of the green whipping energy with me, it fought _somehow_ and hissed as I yanked again with the man's help, pulling it shut like a snapping door. The green scar howled and exploded, I ducked my head to avoid the blast since I was so close to it, and waited until the green tint around me cleared. I came up and straightened with a gasp for air, my eyes searching for Cassandra.

The relief on her face was palpable, and I hated it that I wanted it as much as she did.

"It seems my theory was correct." The other man intoned next to me, his gaze on my palm. "The mark on her hand _can_ seal the rifts."

"Well, good." Someone said behind me and I whipped around to look, and then looked _down_. A stocky, well-built, short man with a crossbow as big as he was cradled in his arms grinned at me. "I thought we would be ass deep in demons forever."

I looked at my palm, the light faint but still pulsing. "I guess I can be of some use..."

"It means it could also close the Breach." Cassandra came up to my other side, wary and weary. I knew she expected me to bolt, but at this point, there was no chance I would get anywhere. I was here, and this nightmare was soon to end. I had seen enough to know this wasn't my world, wasn't my home, it wasn't _my_ problem. I would be gone soon enough.

I hoped, anyway.

"Possibly," the first man brought us back to reality. My gaze came back up to his face and I jumped, startled, at the sight of his ears. He gave me a wane smile and my face flared with a heated blush of embarrassment. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation, there, in the palm of your hand." The faintest smile came across his lips for the briefest of seconds and I wondered if he knew the true irony of his statement. The shorter man stepped up to the group and bowed his head to him with a slight tip of his chin.

"Varric Tethras. Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcome tag-a-long." He winked past me, aimed for the viper, and the woman sneered at the gesture, shifting on her feet as if to avoid the affection. _Not friendly then,_ I mused. Wonderful, maybe the famous quote of 'enemy of my enemy' would fit cozy between the three of us.

"I'm sorry," I hiccupped, the cold gripped my throat. "I - I'm a bit lost when it comes to introductions." It was the best I could do, I mean seriously, was I going to spend an ungodly amount of time explaining to these people where I had come from or that I had no idea what I was doing here, _with them?_ A religious fanatic at one side, a pointed-eared man at the other, and now a dwarf at my front. If this wasn't a circus, I wanted a refund.

"I'm a prisoner, like you." Varric explained cheerily, a hand to adjust his other glove. I gripped my hands tight, painfully aware of the cold that nipped at my right hand and ignored my left.

"I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine." Cassandra hissed. " _Clearly_ , that is no longer necessary. No one is asking you to stay." Both Varric and I shared a moment as we snorted together at Cassandra's words. She flustered, her cheeks pinked, and Varric flashed me another grin. Alright, so maybe he wasn't so bad.

I smiled, "It's good to meet you, then, Varric."

A small scoff from the man beside me. "You might reconsider that stance, in time." I raised my eyebrow and turned on one heel gently to the man beside him. His arms tight at his sides and hands behind his back, his expression neutral and quiet.

"Aw, I'm sure we'll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles." Varric answered readily.

"Absolutely not." Cassandra butted in, her presence coming close to my back. "Your help is appreciated, Varric, but -"

"Hold on one fucking minute." My voice snaked through the conversation unraveling before me. Cassandra bounced a bit on her heel, once more startled by my intrusion, and both Varric and the other man had their eyebrows shoot up their foreheads. I turned to Cassandra, heated and chapped. "You're not honestly turning him away, are you? Think for two seconds, _aside from this fucking thing_ ," I waved my glowing hand for good measure, in case she forgot its existence, "I am _utterly_ useless in a fight. This act I got going with my hammer? I'm faking it. _Don't_ send him away."

"... do you think she missed the staff on Chuckles' back?" Varric ventured gently, his gaze roaming over my face. I knew I sounded insane, but if they had been on my side of the fence, it was pennies in change to what they sounded like from my end. I huffed and turned to look at 'Chuckles,' and yes indeed, their was a long and elaborate staff protruding from his shoulder behind his back. _The hell is that for?_ A quarterstaff, maybe? Like the ninja I had seen in the movies, but he was hardly dressed to fight with such an unruly weapon. The other man narrowed his eyes at me and with a sudden pressure at the bottom of my stomach, I felt extremely exposed. I tipped my chin down and squared my shoulders, ready to run if he took one too many steps toward me, fuck Cassandra at my back.

"Can I have a real name?" I interrupted his gaze, shifting on my feet with my weight leaning on the upturned handle of the sledgehammer. I didn't like it, not one bit, not a single second of his gaze was comforting. He saw something and this was _my_ dream and to hell with having creepy things follow me beyond it.

"My name is Solas," he answered, his gaze transformed into something distant, "I am pleased to see you yet live." I blinked hard at him, _the hell is that supposed to mean?_

"He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.' If it helps." Varric chirruped behind me, gleeful almost as Solas shot him a quick stare. I clenched my left hand and felt the heat of the mark lick along my fingers, the warmth a distraction from the ice that raced through my blood, ignoring the protection of my jacket and armored pants.

"... thank you." I said at long last. Regardless of what I had been through, to know that someone attempted at the very least to help me, even for selfish reasons, earned it. I mimicked Varric and bowed my head slightly and it seemed to appease Solas, his demeanor softened considerably. New tricks, meet old dog. "I take it you know a lot about this thing, huh?"

"Solas is an Apostate." Cassandra offered from behind me. The word meant nothing to me, aside from perhaps being a nasty term for an unfortunate medical condition.

"Technically," Solas shot a look between Cassandra and me, "All mages are apostates now, with the Circles gone." His gaze leveled back on me and I swallowed, frozen to my spot with the hammer loose in my hand. "My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to assist in any way that I could." My head swam, because now there was a lot more to this story than I was willing to remember. This had to be a dream, right? But what dream became this elaborate? None that I ever had, that was for damn sure. I swallowed again and nodded, turning my gaze away.

"What now, then?" My gaze landed on Cassandra. Solas unnerved me and I needed a break from his inspection. He knew something, or was a bit more aware of my dream than I was. I hated that, I hated when someone else in my dream had the out-of-body experience aside from myself. That was completely unfair.

"We continue." She answered readily with a nod of her head toward the Breach that hung above us. "We need to make it to the forward camp and hope that Leliana and the others have survived. Come." Cassandra turned on her heel and led it over a broken wall and down a path into a valley split in sections by a twisting river.

"Seeker, your prisoner is no mage, you know this, yes?" Solas spoke up from behind. My back chilled under my armored jacket, I could feel his eyes at the back of my skull and I determinedly kept my eyes forward. I wouldn't fall into whatever trap he felt like placing at my feet, I was enough trouble as it was, thank you very much.

"Yes, I saw." Cassandra growled. "But she can command the mark and seal the rifts."

"No mage would have that power, _no one_ can produce the amount of magic it would take to rip open the Veil." Solas came up further from behind, running past me to get to Cassandra and trot beside her. I was starting to have a stitch come into my side from the running. I wasn't a push over, but running nearly nonstop through icy winds and compact snow made the body and limbs protest a bit sooner than average.

The dwarf behind me wasn't complaining despite being at the end of the group. I stayed in the middle of our running herd, I had not the faintest clue as to where we were going or where we needed to go and I didn't want to be the one that ran head first into a dead end. Cassandra led us straight down some cobbled steps before the Breach screamed and spat out more demons.

"Demons ahead!" Solas immediately parked his heels in the snow back and swiftly pulled his staff down across his hip from his back and to my choked surprised, fired a bolt of lightning from the tip of it. The heat of the strike was immense and my brain playfully corrected, _that's plasma, not light._ Mercy, this was not what I needed today. Cassandra dove into the fray with her shield across her chest and sword snapped back her hip, Varric watched her back with a volley of arrows from his crossbow.

I froze.

"She could use some help there, you know!" Varric called from beside me on the hill. I swallowed, my hands shook as I adjusted my grip on my hammer and slipped down the bank with less grace than Cassandra. I stumbled up behind her and true to whatever training she had, she shifted to accommodate my presence, shielding my blindside as I turned to face the monsters.

I wasn't trained for this. I rode motorcycles and went swimming and played casual baseball on the weekends. This was not my deal, this was not _me_! I heard another clang from behind me, Cassandra shouting in pain. Bile came up and scorched my throat; I gripped my sledgehammer and wound up for the incoming pitch. The demon snarled a gaping hole of a mouth at me and charged. I counted the seconds until it reached over my imaginary home plate and swung.

There was a sickening crack that startled my follow through and my sledgehammer dropped as my momentum was retracted. The demon yowled angrily, but a swift and sudden arrow shot through its eye socket (there was one? Why was there only one eye?) and it crumbled before disappearing into a gasp of sparks. I turned briefly to spot Varric, but he had already turned his attention to covering Cassandra in her charge. Solas slipped down the snow bank and onto the river's surface with ease and I shuddered at the realization that he wore _nothing_ , no shoes, not even socks.

"You're gonna get frostbite." I said stupidly when he was in earshot. Solas stumbled a bit, his eyes momentarily wide with surprise and he huffed a small chuckle.

"If I do, I should be the first elven mage to do so." He replied. I wasn't sure what that meant either - Fade, the Veil, demons, all these things I didn't know - but there wasn't a time to find out. Past me, Cassandra and Varric had crossed the frozen river and with Solas' hand on my elbow, I followed. A cottage on the other side was ablaze, tattered and beaten with flames that melted the snow around it. Cassandra led us up a flight of stone steps and I was herded to be in the middle of the group.

"So." Varric called from behind me. How did he always end up back there? " _Are_ you innocent?" I glanced at Cassandra's back as she jogged up the steps, worried that she would snarl my guilt. She remained silent, though, and I tentatively looked over my shoulder and shrugged as best I could over my breathing and laboring with a heavy hammer.

"I... I don't remember what happened." Which was in all parts; truth. I didn't know what happened to give me this damned mark in my left palm, and I certainly had no idea how I ended up in a throw-back time of the 1800s (if that, because the complexity of Varric's crossbow left a lot of plot holes for that theory) or why I was suddenly on a crusade with a rag-tag team of misfits from all across different fantasy genres. It was a mess, to put it simply.

"Ah," Varric laughed, "Should'a spun a story, makes it more believable."

"That's what _you_ would have done." Cassandra snapped from ahead of us.

Varric chuckled as he came up to my right side. "It helps prevent any premature execution. Worked for me." Cassandra snorted from high up on the steps, but she was given no time to response before another pack of demons was on us. This was getting exhausting. My arms were trembling from the effort of just holding onto my sledgehammer, lest of all trying to swing it. Still, the others didn't complain, and Cassandra was already putting herself at the head of the fight, the least I could do was _attempt_ to keep up with her.

The demons feel sooner this time, which was a bit suspicious, but I wasn't going to question it too much. It might have been the mere fact that we had doubled our party since the start, and it made for good field clearing. As the demons dropped, Cassandra took a moment to swipe the grime from the blade and she hefted her shield higher in her grip. She looked up further along the hill and sighed.

"I hope Leliana made it through all this." Cassandra allowed a flicker of remorse to flash over her face. I felt a tug of sadness for her, this madness wasn't just destroying my life, but hers as well. Dream or no, this shit was going too far and hurting too much. Varric shouldered his crossbow and walked past us, taking the lead this time.

"She's resourceful, Seeker." Varric comforted. "I'm sure she did just fine."

"In any case." Solas startled me and I jumped when his voice appeared directly over my shoulder. I glared as he stood, poised, on the steps, his hands once more behind his back. "We shall see once we reach the forward camp. I suggest we make haste, we are almost there." Cassandra nodded with a sigh and sheathed her sword. I closed my eyes for a small moment of reprieve and then heaved my hammer up onto my shoulder instead of dragging it behind me. The three of them led in front of me, my tired limbs barely keeping me on their heels. The wind whipped around me and my jacket was doing very little in the way of protection now. Curiously, I placed my left palm to my neck with a wince (pray that no demons spat forth) and sighed in relief as the warmth of the mark melted the stiffness in my neck.

I quickly put my hand down; I was not about to develop Stockholm's Syndrome with my hand.

"Another rift!" Cassandra called. I sighed with regret and sped up my pace. That was my cue, after all, no one else was capable of doing a damn thing about this scars in the air, and since this was my dream, I might as well do what I could for these poor, miserable people I sucked into my nightmare. Solas, true to his form, planted himself away from the main battle and rained fire down on whatever demon managed to get too close. Varric laid a heavy cover of arrows for Cassandra as she dove toward the other fighters and drew the demons off them.

Blindly, I ran to the center of the battle and raised my hand, praying that I wasn't about to stupidly leave myself open to fire on a hunch. The sensation was much the same as the first time; something reached out and bit with sharp teeth into my tendon, gnawing at the muscle under the skin of my wrist and desperately pulled, trying to haul my ass into the rift.

"No, you don't get to do that!" I snarled, reflexively twisting my wrist in a disarm as if to grab whatever had taken my arm hostage and I yanked back. Something screamed from within the rift and pulled harder, but I was not about to have my sorry ass dragged into another goddamn nightmare. My fingers gripped the green whip of light and I took a lengthy step back, pulling from the stretch of my back and shoulder. The rift resisted for a moment more before it relented with a wail and released me.

I stumbled back from the sudden absence of a counter-weight and felt hands at the small of my back. With a glance, I spotted Solas behind me and he nodded, oddly pleased. I shook myself out of his hold and ducked my head as I followed Cassandra and Varric through the latest gate, with a turn and onto another bridge, we found ourselves surrounded by more people, scared and paled, but alive.

"There she is." Cassandra breathed in relief. Ahead I could spy the previous woman who had been in the dank chamber with me, who saved me from the viper's bite. I swallowed as we neared, her argument with a robed man soon cut short once we were within range. The man, dressed like a priest in white and pink, scowled at us heavily, but the other woman - Leliana, it must have been - was relieved, though briefly.

"You made it." Leliana smiled at Cassandra and then through a quick glance at me. "You. Chancellor Roderick, this is -"

"I _know_ who _she_ is." The priest snapped. He glared at me, willing my bones to melt with the look, I'm sure. "And as Grand Chancellor, I hereby order you to take this _criminal_ to Val Royeux to face execution." My inhale was painful, my diaphragm protesting the squeeze under my lungs that iced my blood straight through to my bones. Cassandra reared up beside me, just like the viper I had seen before in my imprisonment.

" _Order me?_ " She snarled. "You're a glorified _clerk_. A _bureaucrat._ "

"And excuse you," I wasn't about to let myself be a bowling pin, I leveled my hammer's head on the table. It was gentle, not the enraged swing I wanted to toss, because we needed to keep _some_ semblance of peace amongst us. "If you hadn't noticed, there's a giant _fuck you_ hanging over our heads and it's not gonna wait for our petty grievances to air themselves out!"

The group around me had gone silent. Cassandra seemed torn between agreement and chastisement. Leliana, for all the little that I knew of her, smirked in either pride or amusement. Solas coughed behind me and it did nothing to cover Varric's chuckling. The 'Chancellor' pulled his chin up from his chest and placed his hands on the table; I took a vicious boost to my ego seeing that he was just my size. This guy, unlike the demons I had fought, I could take in a bar fight.

"And it seems we have more than just _one_ thug!" Roderick glared between Cassandra and me. "One of them who _supposedly_ served the Chantry!"

"We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor." Leliana cut in, cold and cutting. The Chancellor wilted a bit under her words, but drew himself up when his gaze found mine again. I couldn't help the tugged snarl that rested on my lips, my hammer's head sliding a bit over the table's surface.

"Justinia is _dead!_ " The Chancellor answered with a raise of his hands, his gaze flashing between the three of us that surrounded him. Smartly, the men stood behind us, and I wasn't entirely sure it was for their protection, but rather to watch as this shit show unfolded. "We must elect a new Divine and obey _her_ orders on the matter."

"Do you honestly think the world is going to wait for that?" I snapped, enraged that my dream was twisting about this nonsense. Since when did I have to obey bureaucratic laws? In a _dream_ , no less. The hell I was going to sit here and listen to my grandmother's old priest prattle to me about laws and rites and duties. "There is a god-knows how fucking big _split in the sky_ that desperately needs our attention and waiting to elect a _new_ head of state because we can't pull our thumbs out from our ass without permission seems pretty damn inconsequential in comparison!" Once more I apparently stunned my group into silence. I would have to watch how liberally I used my swear words from this point forward, if I survived this.

 _I'm going to wake up, it don't matter,_ my mind tried to correct me. Less and less did I feel it was telling the truth.

"Quite." Solas chirruped from behind me, inordinately pleased at the state of us all. Bastard.

" _You_ brought this on us in the first place!" Roderick snarled back, and if it wasn't for the cold, I would have bet he spit just the smallest amount from the force of his objection. His darkened eyes shot to Cassandra as she approached the table and he straightened, his voice hard; "Call a retreat, Seeker, our position here is hopeless." Is this what I sounded like? No wonder Cassandra had lost her patience with me, a hopeless fanatic was never a good thing.

"We can still do something, it is not too late." Cassandra tried to reason, her hand heavy on the table near my hammer. I pulled it back and stepped between Varric and Solas; this wasn't my fight anymore. This was well above my pay grade. Varric shot me an amused look, but I ignored it. Something twisted in my gut that this was not going to end well.

"How?" The Chancellor asked in defeat. "You won't survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers."

"We must get to the Temple as quick as possible." Cassandra argued, looking to Leliana as the other woman stepped forward.

"It's not the safest, we can take the mountain pass while the soldiers create a distraction on the other side." Leliana pointed up and over the Chancellor, to a path I couldn't see. I swallowed and glanced down at Varric; the dwarf could only offer me a shrug for comfort and I took it for what little it was worth with a sigh.

"We lost contact with a group through that pass when this chaos happened." Cassandra turned to Leliana with a scowl. "We cannot afford to take a path so risky with the prisoner."

"Jaime." I felt compelled to interrupt. Both women paused and turned to look at me, with Solas and Varric sharing their surprised interest. I cleared my throat and palmed the pommel of my sledgehammer as it leaned against my leg. "If we're going to send me to my death, at least know my name. It's Jaime." It was then that the Breach over our heads decided to join our conversation and cracked open, a new flash of green echoed through the sky and the clouds shuddered, my left hand lit up like a flare and I winced, dropping my hammer and gripping my wrist at the bright heat.

"... how do _you_ think we should proceed?" Cassandra addressed me. Surprised, my gaze snapped up to her face and saw the seriousness etched into her mouth. She was deadly serious, indeed. I looked between Leliana and Cassandra, but neither woman deemed it necessary to save me from the attention bestowed upon me, so I turned my gaze finally to Cassandra, incredulous.

"You're asking _me?_ "

"This is your decision, as it is the mark on _your_ hand that will either save or doom us." Cassandra replied hotly, her gaze a mere flicker down to my hand. A hard swallow stuck in my throat and I looked up at the sky, the mountain path that was invisible to me, and then a clear path where previous soldiers hand tromped through the snow to get to the battle field. _Safety in numbers_ , my brother always said. I could do numbers, we _needed_ numbers. I nodded to myself and brought my eyes to Cassandra, resigned.

"We charge with your soldiers." I darkly answered, my glare over her shoulder to the Chancellor. "I won't survive long enough for this fu - friggin' party to last beyond the first dance, so let's get it over with now." I was going to wake up, I had to believe that. This was just some elaborate dream brought on by too much sugar or too much food or something. This couldn't be real, and these people, I could live with the guilt of seeing them die once I was awake, in my bed or in an insane asylum, but at least I would be awake.

Cassandra accepted my response and turned on her heel to lead us into doom. One more hard swallow in my dry throat and I reached down for my sledgehammer, picking it up one last time with some effort and followed her willingly. Varric and Solas were not too far behind, and soon after, a squad of soldiers followed in our wake. We climbed up the snowy banks in a beaten path that had been trotted upon by other soldiers before us. Up around the brush and down into another battlefield, and from there it was just a slog to get to the end, where the rest of the soldiers were holding off the demons.

My arms were screaming by the end of it, heavy with exhaustion and I felt tears prick along the corners of my eyes. My back and shoulders burned, itched, and trembled with each swing. It was almost a blessed relief when I managed to fight my way to the rift and yanked it shut with nothing more than a wince at the ever-present bite that was the tradeoff. My knees shook and I wanted to drop, but Solas was behind me, a hand on my shoulder.

"Sealed," he murmured, congratulatory, "as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this."

"Let's just hope it works on the big one." Varric added behind Solas. I sighed heavily and scuffed my boot at him.

"Encouragement," I tiredly teased, "I need encouragement."

"Tell you what." Varric chuckled, his crossbow resting comfortably in his arms as he stepped toward me. "We make it out of this, I'll buy you a drink."

"I'm certainly going to need it." I muttered darkly. There was movement behind me, not because I heard it, but because Solas' eyes passed over my shoulder and focused on something in the distance. With my heel turned, my hands clenched against the pulsing warmth (it had gotten worse the closer we came to the Breach), I found the viper with a new companion. A man, tall and smothered in fur along his shoulders, with blond curls protruding from his head, a scar through his lip and eyes set into a steely gaze.

"Lady Cassandra." The man greeted her with some relief. "You managed to seal the rift? Well done."

"Not I, Commander." Cassandra turned to me and for some inexplicable reason I felt my face heat up, from my neck up to my ears. The 'Commander' made his way toward me and I stiffened; I was once more a mere child under the eyes of my parents. I swallowed and squared my shoulders, hiding my marked hand behind my back. Cassandra sighed, "This has all been the work of the prisoner - Jaime."

"Is it?" He accused. He appeared as weary as I did, as we all did. His shoulders rolled under his fur and sighed. "I can only hope they're right about you, we lost a lot of people coming up here."

"I can't promise anything." I lamely replied, feeling out of my depth with the chaos and destruction around me. _What if this is real?_ I couldn't let my mind wander like that. I bowed my head as I had seen Varric do, my newest trick that seemed to get me far in this world. "But I can try my best."

"That's all we can ask for, at this point." The Commander nodded his head and stepped back. "Head to the Temple, the way should be clear. Leliana will be waiting for you." He exhaled roughly and leveled Cassandra with one more look, heavy and exhausted and riddled with sorrow. She met it and bowed her head, I suppose it was the only response anyone could give in such a dire situation.

"Thank you." It was all I could offer.

"Give us time, Commander. We shall see this to the end." Cassandra added lowly, her hand on the pommel of her sword and shield lowered.

"We will. Maker watch over you - for all our sakes." With that, he turned and retreated with his men to regroup. A moment passed through my mind, curious as to the use of the word 'Maker' with a definite capital M, but now was not the time. It made sense, a little, that their God would be called something so simplistic, but now wasn't the time for philosophical conversation. _I need to wake up. The nightmare is almost over._ I followed Cassandra down into the ruined mass that used to be their Temple.

It was almost instant how quickly the tears sprung up into my eyes. There were bodies littered all over the place, some prone on the ground, others charred into still-life, caught in their escape from the place and burnt alive in a flash fire. I walked up to one such body, hand thrown over their head to shield themselves as best they could. I wiped at my cheek and Varric came up beside me, his face unreadable.

I swallowed, my voice tight. "I d-didn't do this."

He hesitated, his gaze frozen on my face. He finally nodded, "I know, sweetheart. Come on. It's almost over." We were led away by Cassandra who drove us hard through the ruins and the burnt walls. She wanted to see it even less than I did, I'm sure. This Temple meant nothing to me, but the people, innocent, unknowing individuals that had been taken by surprise by something that _I_ may have caused - with an explosion, a devastation connected to me.

It was surreal, knowing you were someone's atomic bomb.

"The Temple of Sacred Ashes." Solas murmured.

Varric huffed and shouldered his crossbow. "What's left of it, anyway."

There was a flash of green over my head and I turned up to see the Breach, a monstrous scar that tore through the sky, but beyond it held no stars or space or planets, nothing like one would think or had seen in the movies. It was volatile, a roaring sea of green and form and figures that thrashed against the breaking seams of the barrier.

"In there is where you walked out from the Fade." Cassandra's stare bore into me. "They say there was a woman behind you when you appeared. No one knows who she was." There was a pregnant pause, as if she wanted confirmation of the happenings that destroyed this place. My head ducked, my chin down to my collarbone, and I marched past her. I had nothing to give, bodily, emotionally, or philosophically. This was madness and here I was at the center of it.

We cut through the broken walls and down a twisted path that was once a hallway. We came to a section that gaped open and revealed the center of the decimated Temple. Above all our heads was a vortex of green and crushed rock, floating in a spiral as it was suctioned upwards into the sky. A shudder ran up my back and I focused on the scar that was to be the end of this nightmare. Leliana and her men appeared behind us and Cassandra dealt with them swiftly before returning to me.

"This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?" She asked, determination set hard on her face.

I smiled weakly, "I don't think anyone is ever ready to jump off a cliff, Cassandra." She didn't answer me and I didn't expect her to give me one. I stepped around her and looked over the edge of the railing that separated us from the next floor down. It wasn't too high of a jump and I could make it. My sledgehammer went over first, falling to the ground with a hideous clank and I jumped soon after. The minute my boots touched the ground, a voice echoed around us and I froze as it rang loud in my ears.

"Now is the hour of our victory." The voice rumbled like thunder all around, vibrating in my bones. "Bring forth the sacrifice."

"What is that...?" Cassandra asked breathlessly. A quick glance over my shoulder showed my group had followed me, Varric, Cassandra, and Solas. All three of them peered up at the sky until Varric's eyes caught something and made them go wide. He nudged Cassandra and she glared down at him with a snarl. I followed his line of sight to a grotesque protrusion of red stone that pulsed and smelled strongly of sulfur.

"Seeker," Varric growled, reeling away from the stone like it was the plague, "Do you _see_ that? It's _red lyrium_."

"I see it, Varric." Cassandra growled and stormed past him to my side. I made haste to give her room, anger and violence rolled off her in waves that made the mark on my hand pulse and pull. It wanted it, wanted something from her and I feared it. I clenched my hand and shifted it behind me. Solas caught the move, but I shook my head; now was most definitely _not_ the time for this discussion.

"It's not supposed to be _here_." Varric hissed, and then clenched his jaw and muttered to us darkly; "No one touch it or go near it. Especially not you, Chuckles."

"I do not use lyrium often, but I heed your point."

My eyes closed and I inhaled; wonderful, really, this dream just got worse as it continued. With my eyes open, I took another tentative step forward and froze, not half a foot from where I was when the voice continued. Ice flooded my veins and gripped me tight; my voice was the one that filtered in through the haze and the madness of the Breach above us.

"Please!" A woman screamed from above, "Why are you doing this? Someone please help me!"

"What's going on here?!" The echoes of my voice followed the first woman's, terrified and shrill. My eyes grew wide and I was tethered to the rift in front of me, unable to look away even as Cassandra rounded her viper gaze to my face. The Breach above us shrieked and whatever voices that had escaped were swallowed by the sound of tortured yells.

"You _were_ there!" Cassandra accused with a heavy step into my personal space. I nearly dropped my hammer; instead I took a step back and shielded myself with my marked left hand, the blaze of light catching her off guard and forcing her to stop.

My voice trembled, "I d-don't remember! I don't remember anything - I don't even know how I got here!"

"What?" Cassandra spat. Solas soared in between us, a hand held back to me to keep me at bay, but his whole body blocked Cassandra's enraged advance. Varric stayed back, his bow leveled in his arms but pointed at no one, his weapon was as limp as mine in my hands.

"Seeker." Solas commanded. "Now is not the time... Should she survive this ordeal, then her trial awaits her and we shall have our answers." With a strangled growl, Cassandra turned away from us and disowned us entirely. My throat worked to swallow back the bile that had risen up from my stomach and I shifted around Solas with a quiet nod in thanks. It was time to end this nightmare, because I certainly didn't want to be in another one with a very upset Cassandra.

Hesitantly, I jumped down the second railing and tumbled brokenly onto the ground. My legs were spent and my body was starting to refuse any of the commands I gave it. This was it, the last of my rope was being spent and it was starting to fry at the ends. Tears flooded my eyes as I stood; the pain of my limbs was something I couldn't completely ignore. Spikes and needles and cold fingers pulled at my tendons and muscles, everything twitched and begged and all I could do was push forward.

We reached the center, bowman all around us and soldiers behind us. Trembling, I raised my hand as high as I could and a whip of light snapped down to meet my hand. I twisted my wrist, once more as if to grab the rope of light that connected me to this Fade and took a mighty step back. The Breach howled and the seams broke. From there, it seemed all the monstrosities of hell poured from the shifted seal. The world sang around me as the Breach vomited up a monster.

Behind me came a roar, tremendous and rupturing. With wide eyes I turned and stared upward, a great horned, armored beast had been spat out from the Breach and it was heading toward me. Weakly, I gripped my sledgehammer and for the first time in ten years, I prayed. A whip formed in its hand and it raised its arm high above its head, his maw opened wide and dripping. It brought down its arm and laughed.

I am sorry to say I closed my eyes and waited. It was a shame, really, because I missed the lightning speed that Solas used to appear in front of me, arm and staff spread eagle and a sheen of blue and white surrounded us. I gasped as a warmth swallowed me and engulfed both of us. It soon turned cold as my body glittered with whatever he had cast and the whip bounced off us. Solas turned with a wince on his face and gripped my shoulder hard, shoving me around the broken pillar and down into its shadow.

"Stay here." He grunted, another brief wince over his face as something came up behind him and scored at his back. His staff swirled in his palm and a flash of fire struck the creature. He turned to look at me and I shook, terrified and exhausted. Tears streamed down my face, all my bravado that I had mustered before gone in the blink of an eye in the face of something far greater than I was; I shook my head and ducked my chin to my neck.

"I c-can't do this, I can't do this, this isn't me, this isn't _me_." I cried, my hands coming to my face, the mark on my hand burning hot and wild between my fingers. Solas sighed and placed a hand on my head, but he was gone the next moment, to deal with the monstrosity that I had brought into the world, thinking I could fix it. I vomited again, the turmoil rose hard in my gut as I listened to the soldiers scream, Cassandra yelling to distract the beast, the sound of Varric's crossbow nearby as he tried to help control the battle.

 _It's a dream, it's a dream, it's a dream!_ My internal screaming continued as I rocked in the shadow of the broken pillar, hoping to any God that listened that nothing would find me; that Cassandra and Varric and Solas survived, that I woke up. Another howling laugh echoed in the ruins of the Temple, the beast was getting the upper hand of the others. I looked up and blinked through my tears; I held my breath to control my shaking and stood up on shaky knees. The green of the Breach flickered overhead as the beast rained its whip down on the others.

 _End it. This nightmare will end once the fight is over. Isn't that how it works?_ I closed my eyes and lifted my hand, the Breach snarled down at me and swallowed my hand as I raised it, yanking at the muscles in my arm under my skin. A scream erupted from my throat and the air was sucked from my lungs. I froze, the world around me darkened and heat consumed me.

The nightmare was over, and I was about to wake up.


	2. ACT I: What's A Maul

**Running On Empty:** _What's A Maul?_

* * *

The second time I woke up, I knew I was crazy. I could pick up the faint sounds of a breeze and wood creaking, a door opening, and the crack of a fire somewhere to my left, warming my side. I swallowed and inhaled deeply to stave back the tears that threatened to overcome me. I wasn't home. I couldn't hear the sounds of my city, of ambulances crying as they barreled down the street or of people shouting as they ran after a late bus. No scream of sirens, no hollers from my neighbors, this wasn't even my bed. I wasn't home. I swallowed again and choked a bit on my exhale. Something fell and scattered across the floor, I bolted upright and blinked, spying a tiny creature by the entrance.

No, it was another elf, their ears pointed like Solas and their feet bare as they walked. I struggled to find my voice, but the little elf dropped to the floor and trembled. "I apologize!" They shrieked, their trembling stronger. "I didn't mean to wake you!"

"N-no, hey, wait, it's fine -" But the elf tucked their head down nearly in between their knees and shook hard enough to spasm on the floor. With a turn, I brought my legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand, but the elf squeaked and I stayed frozen, unwilling to scare the little thing even further.

"I beg your forgiveness and your blessing." The elf remained on the floor. "I am but a humble servant." I winced and fisted the blankets in my hands, my jaw clenched. The elf picked themselves up from the floor and their knees knocked together as their hands twisted tightly together. "You're back in Haven, my lady. They s-say you made the Breach stop growing, just like the mark on your hand."

 _Haven?_ Oh, right, the place where I had been kept prisoner, that's what they must mean. I looked around again, the cabin they had me in was much improved from the dank and damp cell they had kept me locked up within. There was a faint glow from my left hand and I raised it, seeing that my palm still was split across the middle, but the glow was faint and the pulse wasn't terrible. It beat in time with my heart, soft and slow from sleep. A sigh escaped me, I was relieved that the pain had subsided.

"It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days." The elf backed up toward the door as I startled, a sharp look thrown up. _Three days?_ I looked at my hand again, wondering if it had been the cause of it. "Lady Cassandra ordered that you were not to be disturbed."

"And wh-where is she?" My voice cracked. Thirst scratched at my throat, but I couldn't see anything for water, no pitchers or water-skins. It would have to wait.

"In the Chantry." The elf informed and took a lengthy step toward the door. "She asked that she be informed of your awakening at once." Their hand was on the knob and they tripped at the door. "At once, she said!" Another, longer sigh came up and my hand pinched the bridge of my nose. I had just woken up and it was already a long day. Outside the cabin was a rush of commotion, people chattering loudly and a herd of them must have been outside my door.

Another sigh. I counted to five and then stood on shaky knees. They were waiting for me. God, the idea that these people would possibly treat me like the elf did made my stomach revolt under my lungs. The bile kept at bay with a hard swallow, I checked over myself. No visible wounds from what I could see, aside from the mark on my hand. I could feel a few bruises and aching bones, but nothing that I didn't expect from my sudden marathon three days before. It was a bit strange, that kind of trauma should have left _some_ kind of mark. Best not to look a gifted horse in the mouth, then.

There was a rack in the far corner of the cabin and I walked to it. It held a set of heavy armor, shined and sturdy looking. _They're not expecting me to wear this, right?_ My clothes, my riding clothes, were gone. I could see patches of them at the end of my bed, but when I walked over to them and unfolded them, I knew they were not to be. My jacket was shredded viciously, claw marks that tore through the leather, my pants had been patched up, but the mismatching leathers made it look uncomfortable. Nothing remained of my shirt or my underwear.

 _What the hell am I wearing?_ My hands came up to my chest instinctively. A flush crossed my face as I realized that my breasts had been bound with cloth and with a quick inspection of my lower body, I was wearing a makeshift type of... well, shift. My eyes closed tightly and I counted again. They mean well, I know that, but Christ would it hurt to keep some personal space? Hopefully it had only been whatever doctor they had that patched me up. _Doesn't explain the armor, though._ The metal looked pristine and the leather than was under it felt smooth and cool.

"I guess... I can try." Spoken only to myself; I removed the armor from the stand and left it on the desk nearby. There was no way I was going to get that all on by myself. I would need help with the straps and the clasps, so that would have to wait. The leather under-armor I could do. A smile touched my lips, I could see that whoever had made the leather did their best to replicate the leather I wore for riding my motorcycle. Tears came to my eyes when I could feel hard material, probably bone or thin metal, inlayed along the back and chest like my protective gear for crashes. My hand came up to my mouth and I froze, tears coming down my face.

 _Why?_ I wondered. Who would go to such lengths to make sure what I wore was comfortable? I slipped into the armor, pulling it across my body and over my legs and the tears were just as strong. It fit perfectly, better than anything I could have bought back home, and a shudder ran through my limbs, gratitude nearly overwhelming. I was bundled up tightly in the armor, it made my back straighten and my shoulders square off. I stretched my arms over my head and then bent down to touch my toes. I could move freely in this and it was amazing.

The outside world waiting for me and there was no more delaying it. With a grimace, I headed toward the door and took a cautious step out. Most times I felt good when I knew I was right, but this time, watching as the people lined up like I was some kind of parade, made my throat constrict and no amount of counting eased it. Now or never, as my brother would say, and so it was now. My feet carried me down the pathway past the guards that stood in a salute, their arms across their chests, and the people filed behind them. With all other ways blocked, I made my way up a set of steps and past more cottages and cabins. Tents lined the snow covered ground and fires were weakly burning in the daylight.

My eyes burned from the snow glare, but I couldn't look up. Their whispers echoed in my ears, _herald, savior, hero_ and it took clenching my abdomen tight to keep the vomit from rocketing up my throat. I wasn't any of those things, didn't they know that? Weren't they told? Solas, Cassandra, and Varric had been the ones to brave the Breach; I had only been along for the ride, for the simple fact that I was a key carried by those more capable of these heroics. A swallow worked its way down my throat and I lifted my head as the 'Chantry' came into view. Priests and priestesses of the same robes as Chancellor Roderick lined the walkway. I could hear their muttering and it was worse than the civilians.

 _Heretic._

Yeah. That one was a bit harder to chew than the rest. My left hand tightened and I growled as I stomped my way forward and shoved past the giant, wood doors of their church. I wasn't a _heretic_ , but I suppose that name was more often tossed around by the faithful than the actual usurper. I hoped Cassandra would figure this mess out, I wasn't ready for this, I couldn't deal with these people and their fantasies.

Inside of the cathedral was warm and dark, lit only by candles that were splattered along the way. I shuddered at the temperature change and walked forward. More doors led off to other places, but I could hear the Chancellor's voice come from down the hall from a room at the end of the church. That's where I wanted to be, and so I hurried. The door flew open toward me and I walked in, two guards stood attention, their eyes flicked to me as I stumbled through. I wasn't even inside more than a step before Chancellor Roderick was at my throat.

"Chain her!" He barked. "I want her restrained and taken to the capital to face trial for the murder of the late Divine Justinia."

"Are we on with that again?" I snapped with a few steps toward their table. Books were thrown over it, a map here and there, but nothing looked familiar to me. A glare was thrown my way by the Chancellor as the guards made no move to follow his orders.

"Disregard that, and leave us." Cassandra growled. The guards saluted once more in their strange way and left, closing the door behind them.

"You walk a dangerous path, Seeker." Roderick hissed, his glare turned to her. Leliana and Cassandra approached the table fully, their faces set in neutral scowls that spoke much of their impatience with the Chancellor.

"The breach is still a threat, Chancellor, and I do not mean to ignore it." Cassandra answered. I brought my hands up to the table and leaned on it, the mark pulsed against the faded parchment under my hand and the Chancellor's eyes found it for a second or more. He turned up to Cassandra, his mouth set in a harsh line.

"I can't believe you're still on about me being a suspect." I muttered. "Why would I go about doing all of this, on the off chance I could, maybe, _survive_?"

Roderick shot me a dark look. "You most certainly are _still_ a suspect until decided by the new Divine."

"That sounds a lot like guilty until proven innocent." I pushed away from the table and crossed my arms, a snarl on my lips. "Is that how it works here?"

"It does not." Cassandra interrupted, her eyes hot and sharp. "She is no longer our suspect." The Chancellor appeared ready to bite back, but Leliana held up her gloved hand and moved close to Cassandra's side, a united front against the disapproving priest.

"Our sources show that the true culprit of the explosion _and_ the death of the Divine were the efforts of someone the Divine did not expect." It must have been the voices, as crazy as that was. Cassandra and Solas had both been with me when we took on the Breach and heard the faded echoes of their Divine as she struggled for her life. Her voice, and mine. I wondered what made them take my side, when the evidence pointed to my presence. I wouldn't argue it, not now.

"And her?" The Chancellor pointed to me. "No one expected her there!"

"Again, the power required to split open the Fade and unleash this unfortunate circumstance upon us could not be brought into being by a single person, lest of all a person of no magical abilities or accomplices." Leliana bowed her head to me, apparently I was to be offended by the statement, but I only blinked and accepted the wayward apology. My mouth twisted a bit; unfortunate circumstance was putting it _extremely_ lightly.

"Are you saying -"

"They may have died in the blast, or have allies that yet live and will carry out the rest of the plan." Leliana accused, her eyes narrowed on the Chancellor.

He rolled under his robes. "So _I_ am a suspect? But not the _prisoner?_ "

"I heard the voices in the Temple." Cassandra broke her silence, her voice heavy and calm. Her armor clinked as she faced the Chancellor; he recoiled from her approach. "I heard the Divine call out to the prisoner for help. She is _innocent_. She had been there, by fate or chance, and did what she could the help. As she did, when she awoke." Her eyes met mine and I quietly nodded my head. Right, no mention of the fact that I had refused at first. _Thank you, Cassandra._

"So her survival, her _mark_ \- it's all just coincidence?" The Chancellor challenged.

"Providence." Cassandra corrected. I reeled at the word, it was most definitely _not_ what I would have used. "The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour."

"You realize," I broke in gently, my voice small, "that I'm just... just me. Right?"

"I have not forgotten what you are." Cassandra acquiesced with a nod of her head. "But there is no denying that you are what we needed, _when_ we needed it." My jaw clenched because I wanted to argue that point, too, but I couldn't think of a solid thing to say. With my appearance a mystery to me as much as it was to them, Cassandra's word held more weight than any pleas I had to the contrary. She walked away from the table and our eyes turned to Leliana.

"The Breach remains." Her eyes turned to me, for once gentle and soft with the frown on her lips. "Your mark is the only way we have of dealing with it." Suddenly, a book came from the darkness of the candles' shadow and smacked the table harshly. I jumped in my skin and the dust from the table settled over the parchments. All eyes rose from the book to Cassandra; her face was hard and narrowed on the Chancellor.

"You know what this is, Chancellor?" It sounded like a question, but Cassandra continued regardless of the Chancellor's reply. "It is a writ from the Divine, granting us the power to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition _reborn._ " Cassandra snaked around the table toward the priest and he stepped back as she stalked forward, her eyes trained on his face. Even I knew better than to test a viper with its fangs at the ready and hastily abandoned my place by the table.

"We _will_ close the Breach, we will find and prosecute those responsible, and we will do it _with_ or _without_ your approval." She had managed to get right into his face, her armored gloves glinting in the candle light with a promise. The Chancellor remained quiet for a beat and his eyes flickered from Cassandra to me, to Leliana and then back again. I swallowed and kept my back straight. Now was not the time to bow to the whims of a bloodthirsty priest. Finally, after a long minute, the Chancellor sighed and left us in the room. Cassandra exhaled roughly and rubbed her hand at the back of her head.

"This was the Divine's directive: Rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who would stand against the chaos." Leliana spoke as if to gain my confidence, but there wasn't much to be had anymore. Cassandra came to the head of the table and inhaled as if to speak, but I held up my hand to stop her. This had gone on long enough without a single word of my predicament and I couldn't let them continue with the lie.

"I'm no hero." They blinked at me, surprised. I continued with a swallow. "This mark on my hand - this isn't providence or the Maker's will or whatever you want to call it. W-we need to talk about this before you send me off to war for a religion I don't even know, lest of all practice."

"You arrival was a curious one." Leliana answered after a beat, her arms folded behind her back. "I have many questions, I was hoping now we could get them answered."

"As do I," Cassandra added softly. She looked at me with a curious frown to her lips and then her gaze shifted and fell down to the book in front of her. I felt something twist in my gut because I knew what she wanted; she wanted me to jump right into the fray and pull us together, but I wasn't about to throw myself into a fight that wasn't mine. Not yet, anyway.

"Where do you want me to start?" My voice trembled a bit, a wave of nausea and overwhelming heat taking residence in my throat. Leliana and Cassandra shared a look before Leliana nodded her head and stepped away from the table. My body went stiff as fear laced my bones, but she didn't come for me. She went around me and to the door, murmuring something to a guard that stood outside of it.

"What is she doing?" I asked Cassandra, worried that I had already ruined my chances.

"Your circumstances are peculiar." Cassandra explained quietly. Her gaze came away from the table and leveled with mine. "You are, for all that we know, a messenger of the Maker, sent in the name of Andraste."

"Those mean nothing to me." I hastily corrected. I winced as she did, ashamed that I attacked her faith so tactlessly, but I feared her idea of a hero would make her deaf to any explanations I gave her. I needed her to understand, I needed both of them to understand that this life wasn't meant for me nor was I prepared to handle it.

"Even so." Leliana soothed us. "We must decide what image we are to portray of you now. Whether you are or are not the Herald of Andraste will be left to the people, we cannot stop the rumors now that they spread." She paused with a glance at the door. "We are your allies, Jaime. We do not intend to throw you to the wolves and have your torn to pieces."

"I would appreciate that, yeah." I deadpanned. A small smile tugged on Leliana's lips and soon the door behind me opened. Startled, I turned to find Solas and the Commander entering the room, followed soon by another woman I didn't recognize. With a blink, I was momentarily blinded by her clothes, gold and gilded and puffed in certain places. She looked every inch the aristocrat she must have been, if I were to guess. With a stiff lip, I turned to Leliana, waiting.

"You mentioned before that you weren't from here." She started gently. "We here need to know the full story so that we know how best to protect you and this Inquisition." She smiled and then turned to the ones that had entered. "You remember Solas. With his magical expertise we may have a solution to this."

"I will make no promises that they will be what we want." Solas replied with a sigh and came to stand next to me. There was a moment of unknown terror that took my breath, but I relented and relaxed next to him, offering him a smile in thanks. He was a friend, if that, but certainly not an enemy. Leliana nodded her head and all I could do was shrug. I knew better than to expect a single man, or elf, to send me home.

"This is Commander Cullen Rutherford, he will be heading the Inquisition's forces." Leliana gestured to him with a gentle hand and the Commander bowed his head, his hands resting on the pommel of his sword. He looked exhausted, he must have been as the last three days were probably chaotic with disorganization after the Breach was shut. "And here, we have Lady Josephine Montilyet, she is our ambassador and representation." The lady in gold gave me a winning smile and curtsied in a way I hadn't seen outside of old black and white movies. I cleared my throat and bowed to her slightly, unsure of what my response should have been.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all, under better circumstances." I murmured. Weak smiles fluttered around the room and Leliana waited a beat before she continued, her eyes focused on me, searching and assessing.

Leliana nodded, but Cassandra huffed, "To introduce myself fully, I am Cassandra Pentagast, and this is Sister Leliana, our spymaster."

"Tactful, Cassandra." Leliana's nose flared briefly. There was a heavy pause and when no one spoke, Leliana turned her attention back to me.

"What we do know of you is that you appeared after the destruction of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The reports say that you stumbled out from a rift in the Fade, with a woman behind you. You were unconscious. May we assume that this is correct?" Leliana looked around the room and then back to me, but there were no objections. She nodded her head. "You are no mage, as stated by Solas, and seem to have no affiliation with any groups that had representation at the Temple. We assume this is also correct?"

"Under who's word?" The Commander interrupted quietly, his gaze cast down for a moment, his feet shifted.

"Just mine, I think." I answered honestly. Copper eyes turned up to me and I felt my face flush again, but I didn't duck my gaze away this time. I shifted on my feet. "Wh-when I came through, o-or when I woke up, _this_ was all I saw. I don't remember being in the Temple, I don't remember anyone with me. I woke up and I was in iron."

"The state and make of her clothes also suggests she's not someone of this region, or anywhere nearby." Solas spoke up from my side, his arms also behind his back. He looked me over, perhaps noticing my new set of leather, but didn't mention it. "They were of a material similar to leather that we have here, but a style and... skill that we don't currently possess."

"Agreed." Lady Montilyet added. "That state of fashion is not found in any current markets or vendors. No one makes that style, not even in Val Royeaux." The Commander pondered it for a bit and then accepted it with a nod of his head. He had seen me in my biking leathers when I first appeared on the mountain to help with the rifts, so he couldn't ignore that.

"Then who are you, my lady?" Lady Montilyet questioned; her eyes turned to me, her face concerned.

"I... My name is Jaime Wyatt." I paused, looking back to Cassandra. Her gaze remained steady and I felt encouraged. I cleared my throat and nodded to the rest of them. "I really don't know what else to say. I-I was born in - " I hesitated. How was I to explain Earth? The continents? What of the United States? Say nothing of the state that I originated from, but even so, it was a mountain of information to process. I floundered.

"... Breathe, my lady." Solas murmured next to me. I inhaled sharply upon realization that I had stopped. A swallow forced itself down my throat and I looked to him. He held my gaze for a small moment, his head tilted and his eyes assessed me. He probably thought I was crazy, as did I. With another swallow, I cleared my throat after and reached for parchment.

Leliana and Lady Montilyet were quick to produce both parchment and quill when it dawned on them what I was attempting. I stared at the quill for a moment with a brief look up at the Lady Montilyet and then Leliana, my voice gentle and ashamed. "I... I don't know how to use this." The Lady in Gold stuttered in response, her eyes widening for a second.

"Excuse me?" Lady Montilyet hiccupped.

I grimaced and shook my head, turning the quill in my fingers. "We don't have these were I'm from, we have... been able to manufacture charcoal into thin wood and sharpen it as need be to write. Or we also managed to make a quill that holds the ink within it and doesn't blot." Christ, I never thought I would have to explain pencils and pens to anyone. Solas cleared his throat and I looked back at him with worry.

"Here." He stated gently. He took the quill and placed it correctly in my hands, bending my fingers as needed. Then he drew the inkwell near and took my wrist to dip it into the pot, running off the excess, and then slowly setting it to the parchment. "Press firmly when you bring it down, light as you pull up, and careful not to puncture the parchment, the quill is sharpened, as well." I watched as he led my hand through the simplest of curves and swirls, teaching me the motions. I withdrew my hand and attempted my name.

"Your family name is quite strange." Solas murmured over my shoulder. Cassandra and Lady Montilyet gently leaned over as well and took note. I supposed some of their lettering rules were a bit different. I blinked as I stared at my handwriting and then groaned quietly to myself. I would have to learn how to read if their rules and grammar were different. For now, though, it appeared that they could, in fact, read my atrocious scribbling.

"Well." I breathed, and started to draw. This, maybe, I could do. "Our map looks a bit like this." I started at Alaska and moved over the rough border of Canada before dropping it down to North and South America. They were sloppy borders, and it was unfair to draw it in the oblong shape of the map as it was restricted by satellites and our own imaging, but I wasn't going to explain that to them, _ever_. Still, I did the best I could, separating the landmasses with the appropriate ponds. It was a long twenty minutes or so as they watched, all of the company now drawn in and leaning over the table as I worked.

"We're pretty big." I stated finally, startling only Lady Montilyet. "This one alone as fifty... states? Sovereign powers? Within it, and all governed by one massive, overseeing government. I lived in one of them. One of the states. These other countries are all run separately by their own customs and cultures, their own heads of power. Kind of like here, I guess." My eyes came up to Leliana, but she was studying the crude map, curious and thirsty for information. Even Solas seemed to ignore me in favor of drawing his fingers over my hasty drawing.

"This isn't Thedas, clearly." Commander Cullen sighed. "Maker, what was dropped into our laps..."

"H-how old are you, my lady?" Lady Montilyet probed with a light word, her board snatched up into her hands to jot down my information. I was scared of what to tell her, frozen in thought. How much of what I knew was dangerous? It wasn't like I was shot back in time (unless our history classes lied to us) and it wasn't like any of the knowledge that I had (limited as it was) would harm any timeline or future I had been living.

"Twenty-six." I finally answered through the thickness of my throat. Lady Montilyet nodded and came around the table to me; Solas moved swiftly out of the way and left me open to her approach. Once a bastard, always a bastard it seemed. My shoulders squared up and my hands tightened at my sides, nearly snapping the quill that I held.

"Are you married? Children? How does family hierarchy work in your culture?" Lady Montilyet fired off once she was close.

Leliana chuckled. "Josie. Give her some space to breathe, no?"

"Oh. Oh, yes, my sincerest apologies. I am merely curious, and as they will begin to look to the Herald for her word, I must know what I can of you, my lady." Montilyet curtsied slightly. "It was meant in no offense, but if you are, as you say, from another world... the implications are -"

"No." Solas and Leliana were suddenly sharp to attention. Montilyet reeled back and so did I, alarmed by their quick interference. Solas came close once more and (as before) placed himself between me and another, this time Montilyet as his target. Leliana remained where she was, but her hands were now folded before her, crossed over her armored chest. Cassandra and Cullen waited, quiet through all of this.

"Josie." Leliana spoke softly into the silence. "We may take down her information, just so that she is not lost amongst the unknown, but we must take great care that her story does not get out." Leliana know turned to me and her eyes darkened for a moment, sorrowed, but it was gone in a flash. I may have imagined it. "As for you, my lady... We shall have to figure out a life for you, here." She and Solas shared a look, heavy and discussing, but she spoke to me. "I am sorry to say that, in this case, honesty may not be in our best interest."

"I'm a horrible liar." I stated immediately. "I couldn't lie to save my life, even telling the truth, no one would believe me." I gestured lamely to Cassandra. There was a moment before a sudden flush came over her face and she turned away with a huff, arms crossed defiantly.

"I will have something for you." Leliana murmured with a bow of her head. "We will... treat you as one does an orphan. There are, unfortunately, plenty in this world. It would not be so hard to excuse your lack of papers or documentation up until now."

"Twenty six years is a lot to answer for, Lady Nightingale." Solas replied quietly. There was a dead silence amongst us. We stared at empty spaces for a long moment, no one willing to speak up about my predicament; and what a hell of a predicament it was. I could understand where Leliana was coming from, in this world, perhaps I could skirt away like some random orphan that was lost or unclaimed, and then released into the world when I became capable. A frown took my face the more I thought about it, it could work, actually.

"Let's do that," I said into the blankness. Several sets of eyes looked at me. How long had we been quiet? "It'll explain my lack of any technical skill with a weapon or a quill or anything." I laughed a bit bitterly. "It'll explain why I can't read as well, if your language is a bit different, and it'll explain why I don't have any sophistication. I can at least tell a fork from a spoon, Lady Montilyet, don't panic!" I laughed as horror flooded Montilyet's face. I was quick to calm her before turning back to Leliana. "It'll help. It won't be hard to play dumb."

"We shan't treat you as such, my lady." Leliana reassured me. "It seems, if I were to guess, that your knowledge of certain things may far surpass our own, but in the basics, we shall lead you."

"But what of the people?" Lady Montilyet returned with a huff. "A Herald with no education, no upbringing?"

"Andraste, in the eyes of many, was a barbarian and a wife to a leader of uncivilized people." Cassandra answered readily. "She led her people into the Light of the Maker with no more than the weapon in her hand and her troupe amassed behind her. I believe here, the same standard could apply."

"Of the people, for the people." I muttered and refused to roll my eyes at the bit of cryptic knowledge that arose.

"Then we'll start there." Commander Cullen announced to the quiet room. "I will have to see that you are trained, though. I cannot have you running about as Herald and not even know how to swing a sword."

"Hammer." Cassandra, Solas, and myself all answered at once. The commander blinked at us and a giggle worked its way up my throat at the sight. I cleared my throat (again) and smiled at him. "I seem to do better with a hammer, and I would like to keep it that way, less likely to accidently cut myself because I missed my sheath or whatever."

"Seconded." Solas chirruped from behind me. I looked at him askance, but he gave me an owlish blink. I sighed.

"Very well." The commander groused. "A hammer or a maul, then, fitted for you. I'll see that Harritt gets on it as soon as possible."

"The hell is a maul?" I asked, wide eyed and confused.

"This is going to be a long day." Lady Montilyet sighed.

She wasn't wrong.


	3. ACT I: No Rest For The Wicked

**Running On Empty:** _Ain't No Rest For The Wicked_

* * *

It took us the rest of the day and all of the day after to hammer out the details. There was constant questions, from all sides, about my world, my people, my culture. I felt lame as an overridden horse, my throat cracked dry from the unending flow of conversation. My name remained the same since "Jaime" was not too hard to explain away. My last name was strange to them (I pointed out that Pentaghast and Montilyet were stranger) and it was changed to Welton. Close, I suppose. Made it less likely for me to forget it.

I was Jaime Welton. Orphaned at the young age of six (thus no memories of my parents), and grew up all along the coast of Ferelden (it helped explain my strange accent and that I couldn't remember any place specifically). I survived the Fifth Blight (whatever that was) under the care of the Chantry, but the building that housed me had been destroyed (thus no Mothers or Sisters to remember me). I was a free roamer, no friends or family, and being an orphan meant I had little to no skill for anything.

Essentially, a burden.

As to why I ended up at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, the explanation goes that I was part of a mercenary group hired to protect the Divine. I still wasn't sure how they were going to pull that one off, but Cullen had been quick to assure me that in record time I would at least have a handle on how to use a maul effectively. We were few enough in forces and I showed enough of an understanding of the maul, that most soldiers were told that Cullen was refining my style and making me more of a warrior than a berserker.

Surprisingly, the troops took it without a second swallow. I was expecting some resistance to the story, sloppy as it was even with Leliana's careful picking, but they simply nodded their heads and obeyed. It must've had to do with the mark on my hand. Less and less that I believed it was something given to me of a higher power (throw me across worlds, sure, there were planets and galaxies in the sky, something else _had_ to exist), but a divine hand coming down and delivering me here to these people? I don't think so. It didn't hurt anymore, at the very least.

It was a grueling three weeks. Every morning up at the crack of dawn, a hot broth and bread shoved into my hands, and I was marched out to the front gates of Haven. The Commander and his lieutenant stood at the front of our small collection of soldiers (me in the front line, oh god) and put us through our paces. Stretches, limbering us up for his torture, before we hiked on our armor and were forced to run. The lieutenant told me it was only a kilometer and a half, but goddamn it did feel more like I was going around the whole world.

From the running we dove into basic positions, holding shields, running with our weapons, learning to use them as an extension of the limb. I fumbled, I fumbled _everywhere_. I tripped and fell and rolled, knocking over whoever was my unfortunate partner that day. Half the time I practiced, the Commander wore a grimace on his face. Three weeks of jumping, running, lifting barrels, more running, push ups, even more jumping, climbing, pushing, pulling - oh what was that, someone pissed off the Commander? Ten more rounds - over and over again, and my days stated to blur together. Rest was rare, especially since the Commander seemed hell-bent on making me battle-ready at the turn of the day.

No way in hell it was just three weeks. My hands hurt and they were blistered. My feet had callouses around the heel and knuckles of my toes. My back ached and I felt like I had been put on a torture-stretcher and then forgotten about. Every night one or two of the soldiers took pity on me, taught me to take my boots off and put my feet in the snow, to hold a ball of it in my hands for the aches, and then taught me how to work the knots out myself. They were a blessing, the handful that would help me day in and day out.

It continued. Breakfast. Training. Lunch. Training. Sometimes I forgot dinner from my exhaustion and there were plenty of times I fell asleep on the shoulder of some sap who was too startled or too awe-struck to move once the Herald was dead to the world. Other times I fell asleep at the fireside by Varric's little set up, listening to his stories (which led to very weird dreams, would not recommend before bedtime). Many times I found myself back in my bed by morning with no recollection as to how I got there. I wasn't going to question it, because it meant questioning who was stripping me to my underclothes every night. Hopefully one of the female warriors.

Harritt was another blessing. He was studious and watched how I moved once I grew accustomed to his maul (or mine, rather, since he made it for me). He had been caring in making my armor (I found out) and took just as much care to make my weapons, sized and weighted for me. I loved him for it, because some nights he would let me sit in his makeshift forge area and watch him and his apprentices work. By the end of the month, Leliana finally approached me. I was slumped against a tent near where Cassandra was training, taking a break (read: escaping) from Commander Cullen's training. I moved to stand, but with a wave of her hand, Leliana had me stay and crouched with me.

"You must be exhausted." Leliana teased lightly. I snorted as she continued, "We've finally received word from Val Royeaux. Would you like some help getting to the War Room?"

"Short of carrying me?" I joked with a shake of my head. "Nah, don't worry about it, Leliana. I can do this."

"Truly?" Cassandra muttered as she stabbed her sword into the ground. "Last time you tried standing, you very nearly tumbled into the lake." I was up on my feet and following the ladies; Cullen was waved over from his post with his men and fell into march behind Cassandra. I was, for some reason, in the middle of our little parade.

"In my defense, I didn't know there was that spittoon nearby." I answered to Cassandra's scrunched face. Cullen laughed a bit, but I shot him a momentary glare. His men were the ones to put it there after all. Up over the stairs and across the courtyard to the church before we made our way to the War Room with Montilyet soon in attendance. With a blink, I noticed that they had cleared the table and placed two large, detailed maps labeled "Orlais" and the other "Ferelden." The Ferelden one I had seen and studied a bit since I had a need to know some handful of cities for my cover-up story.

The room was quiet for a long beat. What little heat the candles provided had turned cold. My gaze flickered between the occupants of the room. The three heads of state, as I had designated them, stood before me and Cassandra. Their eyes moved between each other, another silent discussion I was not privy to, and so thus I turned my attention to Cassandra.

"How is it?" She asked quietly with a look down to my hand. Worry crossed her face and I smiled as best I could for her.

"It doesn't hurt anymore." My answer was just as quiet, but I could see I had gained the Commander and Leliana's attentions. I swallowed and my fingers curled into my palm. "And it s-stopped spreading, so that's a step in the right direction."

Cassandra smiled lightly. "I suppose we take our victories where we can. What is important is that the mark is now stable, as is the Breach." I winced. The hell-hole that was _The Breach_ , italicized and everything, still hung over our heads like a reaper's scythe. Despite all the trouble we had gone through to close it, demons still poured out of it. Not as many as before, but there were constant rotations of soldiers sent out to manage it.

"It has given us time." Cassandra was gentle. It was odd to hear it in her voice. I looked up and worry must have still been on my face. Her hand hesitated as if she was tempted to reach out to me, but instead continued, "Solas believes a second attempt - with more power - will seal it for good."

"Yes, but that requires the same amount of power that opened it in the first place." The Commander's rough cough interrupted us. Cassandra and I both turned to him, frowns marred on our faces. Leliana ducked her chin, amused.

Cassandra sighed. "It is not easy to come by, no, but this is why we are here now, to assess what is available to us." Lady Montilyet perked up from her end of the table, a sociable smile graced her face and she leaned toward our side of the table, quill and write-board in hand.

"Our messenger from Val Royeaux has brought word that the Chantry has denounced us." Lady Montilyet started. Her warm eyes turned to me and she frowned. "You, specifically, Herald. They are labeling you a usurper and heretic." I blinked, surprised by her matter-of-fact statement and deliverance. The woman did not mince words.

"Well that was fast." I joked. "It only took them a month."

"The world has been in chaos since the death of our Most Holy." Montilyet informed me, her quill waved through the air. "The Chantry has become frightened over the prospect of a Herald appearing in the wake of her death, and thus, the rest of us labeled heretics as well for harboring you."

"What do they expect?" I groused. I ran my thumb over my palm, the small callouses I had from riding had been overcome by the new ones developed with the use of my maul. "That I'm just going to charge forward with our merry band of misfits and annihilate them?"

"Technically," the Commander interrupted with a bit of a sour frown on his face, "You already have. The Temple of the Sacred Ashes was supposed to be a neutral zone for all parties to discuss peace, and yet..."

"And yet here I come, with a merry band of misfits from the explosion." I sighed, and then jostled a finger at the commander. "Don't do that, I don't like it when you're funny like that." The Commander snorted good-naturedly with a flush to his ears and I grinned. A few weeks of training together had loosened him up, and I was less of a burden and more of a wayward cadet in his eyes.

"Once we seal the Breach permanently, the relationships between the factions should improve." Cassandra figured, a toss of her two cents into the conversation. Montilyet shook her head and scribbled something down on her parchment.

"It would be impossible to proceed with our plan as neither the rebel mages or the Templars are willing to speak with us on the matter." Lady Montilyet harrumphed. I fought a smile. Leliana and the Commander shot haphazard looks toward each other. The Commander rose an inch or so higher in his stance while Leliana gave him a rueful smile.

"The rebel mages are still our best option." Leliana murmured, the words coming through from a long standing argument. "Magic opened this Breach, and it will close it."

"And I still disagree with you." The Commander intoned, shoulders stiff. " _Magic_ is what got us into this mess. Templars were made to combat it and I believe they would help in keeping the situation from becoming even more disastrous. We need to _seal_ the Breach, not let it grow." My spine had gone stiff as I listened to them; my eyebrows rose in alarm at how quickly I had lost any idea of what was happening.

"We need _power_ , Commander." Cassandra interjected bravely. I glanced at her with a tight mouth. I was the only six year old at the adult table, watching my aunts and uncles argue over dinner. "With enough magic poured into that mark -"

"Might destroy us _all._ " The Commander softly snapped. His gaze grew heated, "Or _her_ , for that matter, since it's attached to her." I was torn between awe and amusement that the Commander would tack the statement on to the tail end of his argument. A hard swallow worked its way down my throat and I pulled my hand up lightly. The faint light of the mark blinked through my curled fingers.

The Commander huffed. "The Templars could suppress the Breach, weakening it so -"

"Pure speculation." Leliana rebuffed. The Commander snapped her with a pointed look and my face heated up with fear. I knew almost for certain that discourse would not come to blows (hell, Lady Montilyet seemed perfectly at ease with the other two heads of the hydra arguing), but that didn't mean the sight of it wasn't any less frightening. They were, essentially, powerhouses in their own ways.

" _I_ was a Templar." The Commander was sharp. "I know what they're capable of doing."

Lady Montilyet sighed. " _Even so_. As I stated before, neither side is willing to parley with us, such as we are. With hostilities on either side, the Chantry's denouncement, and you," Lady Montilyet's warm gaze turned to me with a point of her quill, "An unknown - being labeled The Herald of Andraste - it has simply become too volatile for them to come forth."

"Are you serious?" I muttered darkly, my shoulders tight. "I would think that this hell-mouth sitting above our heads would be a bit more important that political grandstanding." My teeth ground together for a moment. I tried to keep my tongue in check, but several swears had taken residence in the back of my throat.

"Oh, they know it needs to be stopped." The Commander provided with mock-cheer. "They just don't believe _we_ can be the ones to do it."

Lady Montilyet quirked a quick eyebrow. "The Chantry is telling everyone you will make it worse."

"Well... speculation." My mouth puckered momentarily. "None of us know what this thing does or who it works, aside from maybe Solas." The hydra heads at the other side of the table had finally gone quiet, their disputes nullified for the time being. A relieved sigh escaped me, but my spine tightened up again when I noticed Leliana's eyes on me.

"Yes, ma'am?" I inquired. This was a mistake, I should know better by now not to ask Leliana if she needed something. She always had plans, options, opportunities.

"There is something you can do." Leliana murmured thoughtfully. She raised her head toward me, gaze assessing. "There is a Chantry cleric by the name of Mother Giselle, she is asking to speak with you."

I blinked. "What? Why? If she's with the Chantry, why would she want anything to do with us?"

"There are still some members of the Chantry who are willing to see reason." Leliana smirked briefly. "She's not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance in this matter would be invaluable."

I narrowed my eyes at Leliana. "When you say not far..."

\- 0 -

"Best suited to recruit people, my ass." It was cold. There wasn't a single inch of snow anywhere on the ground but the Hinterlands was a giant flatland of spiteful, ice-down-your-ass temperature. The leather I wore only did so much to stave it off. Coats were generally out of the question when traveling in your armor, because apparently bandits and thieves were a real thing on these roads.

What the hell was this world?

The snow in Haven had been manageable. I was usually dashing from one place to another; say like, Varric's fire pit, the cabin I stayed in, the Chantry church that was warmed by standing barrels of fire, Solas' cabin was small enough to maintain a comfortable warmth and if I was stuck outside for extended periods of time, it was purely Commander Cullen's fault with his torturous training.

This here was making me livid. Where Haven was tight and compact and allowed for multiple escape routes from the cold, the Hinterlands offered nothing of the sort. The wind whipped through the narrowed pathways and over the flat ground like a train and snarled at anyone who didn't duck their head for protection. This was made worse by the fact that the Inquisition was low on supplies and animals.

We had met up with Scout Harding, with Varric making an off-handed comment about his book (one that I had tucked away in my rucksack, shh) but it passed over her head. Scout Harding seemed all business with only a spattering of humor in her words. Her tight-lipped warning had placed an unsettling scowl on Cassandra's face, as we had expected to retrieve the horses for the Inquisition without any trouble.

So much for that idea.

I was now stomping my unhappy ass toward the crossroads of the nearest settlement in search of Mother Giselle. Cassandra led the way toward the crossroads, as she was one of the few who knew her way around the area. Solas trailed behind me, quiet and observing of the nature around us (I resisted a jab at his stereotypical elf-like trait when I realized he would not understand the Tolkien reference), and Varric drew up the rear guard with Bianca resting on his back.

The wildlife scattered as we marched. Rams and fennecs and lizards bolted by our feet. The first few startled me. I was a city-girl, the closest I had ever come to wildlife of any kind aside from my brother's cat was at the local zoo where a falcon had nipped me and I ran for the car. Not the best of memories. Solas and Varric watched me with wide, wary eyes after my first jump when a fennec bounced out of a bush and hissed at me.

"... Are you alright there, sweetheart?" Varric was caught between laughter and concern. I shot him a glare over my shoulder, a blush heating under my cheeks and flushing to my ears.

"I a-am. Just surprised me, is all." I marched onward, ignoring Cassandra's annoyed look. Our path narrowed between two towering slabs of hillside and the echoes of singing blades and shouting shields came up from further along. Cassandra's boots bit into the ground as she sped up to reach the sounds of fighting.

"Mother Giselle is not far," Cassandra hissed. The rest of us were nipping at her shadow in an attempt to keep up. Despite my long month of training with Commander Cullen, I was nowhere near the control or speed of my viper, and I was in less armor that she was wearing. Either way, our group caught up and in the middle of the roads was a roaring fight between factions.

"Inquisition forces!" Cassandra brandished her sword and leapt into the fray. "They're trying to protect the refugees!"

I could hear Bianca click behind me, Varric held her firmly. "Looks like they could use a hand."

Solas' staff came away from his back and flared to life with a blue cackle. I swallowed hard and shifted in my boots, reaching over my shoulder to take my maul from my back. This would be the first time I used a weapon in battle with some actual knowledge behind what I was doing - that _didn't_ mean it was going to go well, though.

I hadn't seen magic all that often in my month within this new world. The people closest to me were 'normal,' aside from Solas, who was an outcast on his own for being both elf _and_ an apostate (I finally learned what that word meant). It was still just as startling as the wildlife to see white flames flash across the ground or shards of wicked ice blow into a tree.

Another hard swallow down my throat and I leapt in after them.

True to form, I had enough battleground awareness to at least keep my eyes open for immediate threats. I could practically hear the Commander shouting from behind my shoulder. _Dodge, duck - roll!_ It was hard going for him to teach me, as he was more accustomed to a blade and shield than just a singular maul. Solas and Varric more than made up for my sorry lack of finesse with my weapon and Cassandra drew near to keep my back from being stabbed.

My maul crashed down on the leg of a stumbled mage and bile rose in my throat as his knee snapped like a twig. _I_ may not have been particularly strong, my only musculature came from baseball and rock climbing, and those were not sports that required an immense amount of bulk, but the maul was made to take momentum and turn it into devastating force.

The only issue I had was control. A bolt of lightning came my way, but I was in mid-swing of my enormous hammer and the momentum that could snap a leg was now my downfall. Hence, Solas' presence. He caught sight of me and my flailing form out of the corner of his eye and whirled on his heel to bring a barrier down on my head.

The bolt hit and stung, but I wasn't electrocuted to a crisp, so there was that.

Cassandra leapt from my side and struck with all the force of a fanged beast, her shield knocking the staff to one side, and her sword coming down to break it. _Always try to break their staff first,_ I could hear the Commander educate me, _it's a rare thing for a mage to cast accurately from their hands in the heat of battle. Break it._ Cassandra was well-versed in breaking things, her temper made her proficient.

The mage was soon dispatched and I licked the bile from the roof of my mouth as his head went rolling. Death was not easy, but there was a strange disassociation to it when it was a face that I didn't recognize or person out of sight and only their screams reached me.

It did not make it easier, not by a long shot. I'm surprised I didn't freeze mid-flight into this fight, but Varric had a way of urging me into moving. I had yet to decide if this was a good or bad thing. My throat was choked as I dodged another blow from a heavily armored knight, a Templar with a slick helmet and broad shoulders. My maul came up and twanged against his sword, knocking it back.

Varric's barrage of arrows sailed over my head with sharp whistles and herded the knight away from me, blocking his charge forward into my chest. Solas' spear of ice hissed angrily as it ripped into the ground near the knight's feet, once more knocking him further away. My eyes watered for some reason and blurred my vision; I desperately raised my weapon and stumbled forward, letting gravity take over and bring it down.

The helmet snapped off the shoulders with a wet click and I turned too fast away to see if the head had gone with it.

Silence rushed the crossroads, my heart slammed up under my tongue and fought for purchase amongst all the bile that had coated my throat. I don't know how much I swallowed back, but I was not about to throw up in front of my caretakers. What would Cassandra think? God, I didn't even want to imagine the disappointment on the Commander's face if my first outing came back with reports of, 'Famed Herald of Andraste has a weak stomach; Also we need new shoes.'

Right, that's fly over well. Fuck me.

I breathed deep and then could finally take stock of the world around me. A hand was on the small of my back and I looked up through my watery eyes to spy Varric standing next to me. It was his hand on my back and it rubbed along my spine as he spoke to Cassandra and Solas, watching. How embarrassing. I was twenty-six years old and being comforted like a sickly child.

"Back with us, sweetheart?" Varric was far too amused for having killed three or four men just now. I inhaled deeply through my nose since my mouth was preoccupied with holding back vomit. A nod was all I could manage and I exhaled roughly, my nostrils were Sahara dry.

"She'd been training for nearly a month." Cassandra growled. "I don't see why we still have this issue." My arms trembled and my knees shook in my crouched form. She was lucky I could swing the maul _at all_ , lest of all aim it toward someone's head with the _intent_ to kill them. I swallowed and brought my hands up to my face, breathing deep. Varric's hand on my back was a grounding rod for my turmoil.

"She's not you, Seeker." Solas gently reminded. "Your lady Herald is a gentle soul thrown into combat. Andraste only had a taste for battle because of how she was raised. Be _mindful_ , yes?"

I was by no means a gentle soul. I cursed like a sailor and hand more than a handful of bar fights under my belt, but it came nothing close to watching someone's head cleanly pop off from their shoulders like a damn doll's head. I was thankful nonetheless, because Cassandra was left to huff and puff in silence. Varric was the only one of our group who wasn't totally aware of the truth of my predicament and for now, it would have to stay that way.

"Come on, sweetheart. Up you get." Varric tugged at my elbow and I stood up reflexively, aware that I looked like a mess. One more deep inhale and I swallowed back the contents of my stomach, proud not to have let any spill out. I shouldered my maul and carefully latched it back onto its holster; the weight of it soothed me, oddly.

Varric grinned up at me, "There she is. Ready to go?"

I nodded, wiping my chin. "I a-am. Thanks, Varric."

"Good." Cassandra commanded from the center of the crossroads. "Let us find Mother Giselle and move forward with our plans."

A heavy sigh escaped me, _no rest for the wicked_.


	4. ACT I: It's A Start

**Running On Empty:** _It's A Start_

 **Note:** _Celebrating the western's New Year with another chapter a bit ahead of schedule. This was is shorter than the rest, so depending on the holiday, there might be another chapter up on schedule for Monday. Either case, enjoy!_

* * *

The settlement was a mess. The chaos of the fight had dispersed, but the residents of the area were still on high alert. People eyed Solas with frantic glances and Cassandra was viewed with a little more politeness above displeasure, but both of my companions took the wayward looks in stride. It seemed Varric and I were currently the only ones above reproach, as we had nothing on us that affiliated us with the warring factions.

"We'll have the Inquisition set up standards and patrols immediately." Cassandra stood at the edge of a small pond, her gaze shot back and forth between the traveling people and the incoming Inquisition soldiers that were beginning to clean up. My gaze turned to her, curious, and she sighed, her hand on the pommel of her sword. "Take note, this is what you'll be looked to, leading and commanding your forces."

"Why me, though?" I muttered darkly. "I have exactly zero experience or confidence leading anyone."

"These people need someone to guide them." Solas was very much an old professor when it came to explaining things to me. He took his time, added a hint of amused patience, and dedicated himself to detail. With a turn to him, I waited. He tilted his head to give me a sideways glance, "Cassandra or Cullen could easily lead them, but they would not have the full faith or devotion that your mark inspires. You are, for all intents and purposes, _their_ Herald, even if _you_ do not believe."

I grimaced and switched my gaze to Cassandra. "... help me?"

"I will." She sighed. "I... I am sorry. I forget that this is not your way of life. I will do better to assist you, in the future." Varric gave us all an odd look. Our tones and words probably made it sound strange, but I would continue to ignore his questioning glances. The less that people knew about my real past, the better things would function. The less people would burn me at the stake for being otherworldly.

A scoff escaped me. _Otherworldly_ , me. Hardly.

A soldier of the Inquisition pranced up to us, a standard over his shoulder and a second comrade at his side. They took a moment to calm their breathing and turned to me, stern faced and hard mouthed. They saluted again in their odd way, a fist with their arm across their chest, and bobbed their heads.

"Y-yes?" I am not ready for this, not in the slightest. Solas straightened his back and shoulders behind me, just out of the corner of my eye. I did the same and rose an inch or two more from my slouch.

"Mother Giselle was located, Lady Herald." The one with the standard answered, point a ways off over a gentle hill and toward a collection of tents. "She's currently tending to the wounded. She was asked to come with us, but refused and stayed with the refugees."

"As she should," Cassandra nodded, voice low. "It is the duty of all Chantry members to care for those in need. We can walk to her, instead." I glanced between my party members and neither man looked perturbed at the idea, so I nodded in agreement. The soldiers saluted again, and this time I returned it. The second soldier, a woman of perhaps my age, lit up and fought to keep a straight face.

Mine lit up with a blush and I promptly turned on my heel to march in the direction of Mother Giselle.

The residents around us took no heed of our approach. I could see that some mages remained, heavily supervised by other soldiers or clerics of the Chantry, all of them desperately trying to attend to the mounting bodies that surrounded them. I felt my stomach heave under my ribs at the sight of a few bodies lined up, pale and stiff and deceased. Children laid amongst them, as well.

My lungs drew breath and it burned.

Mother Giselle was indeed not far and she stood from her charge, a shaking, babbling soldier who was soon seen to by another mage off to the Mother's right hand. I paused by the steps we came up and fear gripped me as my companions backed away to allow us space. _Don't go!_ This was exactly what I was talking about, I didn't know enough of this world to be useful, or to know how to use information given to me. The best I could do was memorize and repeat for Leliana like a parrot.

"Mother Giselle?" She looked weathered, but lovely. Darkened skin that was dusted with dirt, but her robes were straightened. I ignored the blood that tinted the cuffs of her sleeves or the smears of it down her sides. She had been hard at work, it seemed. The woman tipped her head to me as she approached and I marveled at how her headdress managed to stay upon her head.

"I am." Her voice was smooth and calming. It startled me, and I stiffened my shoulders instead of relaxing. Once more, I was not the best option at all for these shenanigans. "And you must be the one they are calling The Herald of Andraste." I floundered, what was I supposed to say to that? Everything that came to mind sounded pompous.

Quietly, I bowed my head. "I was told that you asked for me, Mother." I sounded like an idiot. I felt like an idiot. I would kick Cassandra in the shins for doing this to me and abandoning me to this conversation if the kick wouldn't break all of my toes from her armor. The woman smiled at my awkwardness and led me on a walk.

"I have heard of the Chantry's denouncement." Her accent was different than Cassandra's, deeper and with more weight. I tilted an ear to her, listening so I wouldn't have to ask her to repeat herself. I followed at her side like a wayward child. "I am familiar with those behind it. I won't lie to you, some of them are merely grandstanding, or looking for a means to increase their chances of being the New Divine."

Rapidly, as we walked, I attempted to hastily gather what I could remember of Leliana and Lady Montilyet's lessons. The Chantry was vast and drew together many of the nations together ( _Ferelden, Orlais, Rivain,_ I could hear Lady Montilyet's voice echo behind my ear). Aside from Tevinter, the Chantry and its members were well respected and obeyed. You didn't raise a hand to a Chantry sister or brother and not expect at least a dozen bodies pouncing on you.

Mother Giselle turned to me and I hiccupped as I stopped before her. She frowned, but her gaze was distant. "Some of them are simply terrified. So many senselessly taken from us." I gripped the mark harder in my palm and glanced at the ground. _I didn't do it_ rang through my head, but it was a statement long since worn out. It was not needed with the Mother, she wasn't pointing her finger at me.

"What happened was... horrible." I managed to say.

Her gaze refocused and came up to me. "Fear makes us desperate, but hopefully not beyond reason." Her eyes flickered over my face and I could feel another blush come up to my eyeballs. I was by no means a pretty vase of flowers. Her expression furrowed to one of contemplation. "Go to them," she murmured to me, "Show them you are not a demon to be feared."

"If they took a look at me, they'd see the opposite." I replied lamely.

There was a sadness to her. "They only know the frightful tales of you that pour out from the chaos. Talk to them, convince them. Have them believe something better of you." _How_ , I asked her desperately, my face contorted with displeasure. This wasn't what I had signed up for, none of this. I couldn't make grand speeches or sway people with popularity. My charisma score was at a negative.

"I feel like that will make it worse," I had to be honest. I drew my gaze back up to her, pleading. "Look at me. I'm about as convincing as a wet rag in the rain." She blinked at my analogy and folded her hands in front of her, pondering my existence. She tilted her head and adjusted on her feet, giving herself a moment to dissect me, no doubt.

"Let me put it this way." She finally answered. "You needn't convince them all, but you need some of them to _doubt_."

I hesitated, surprised at the revelation. _A debate isn't about proving the other party wrong, Ms. Wyatt_ , my college professor prattled from a memory, _a debate is presenting your side of the argument in a way that will make them doubt their own._ A frown settled deeply on my face, enough to drag my gaze to the ground as I wondered at the idea. _I am not a demon. I am not a mage. I am no one. Orphaned. Helpless. Help me._ My eyes blinked hard and I tossed by head back up to see a faint smile on Mother Giselle's lips.

"Their power comes from their unified voice." She added gently. "Make some of them question and it will give you the time you need."

I bowed my head to her, amazed. "I - thank you. For doing this. I would not have thought of it otherwise."

"I honestly do not know if you've been touched by fate or sent to help, but... I hope." She offered me a warm smile, tired and soothing. "Hope is the best thing that we have. The people will listen and come to your rallying call like they will to no other." She paused and contemplated her next words with care, "You will either build the Inquisition into a force that will deliver us... or destroy us."

My poor heart stuttered in my chest. _These people will need someone to guide them,_ the day was not complete unless I got a lesson from Solas, _Cassandra or Cullen could easily lead them, but they would not have the full faith or devotion that your mark inspires. You are, for all intents and purposes,_ their _Herald, even if_ you _do not believe._ I sighed as a weight drifted and settled onto my shoulders. I couldn't do this, no, but I _had_ to do this. I was not the best one for the job, but it seemed I would be the most _willing_.

Oh, how fucking fitting that was.

\- 0 -

Soon after my conversation with Mother Giselle, I found Cassandra and Solas standing just at the mouth of a path that lead up toward a hill and split of against further toward the rocky mountain that surrounded the crossroads settlement. I trudged up to companions and noted quickly that Cassandra looked far from pleased.

"What happened now?" I asked wearily. Varric and Solas shot their gazes to the Seeker between them, awaiting her explanation just as much as I. Cassandra fidgeted slightly under the three gazes combined and expanded her chest, her shield clinking behind her.

"These people need help." She hunched her shoulders. "Corporal Vale seems to have the best knowledge of what needs to be accomplished, but... I thought it best to wait for you." I sputtered a bit, but it made sense. If I was going to lead this Inquisition, I couldn't have others going around and making appearances for me. The mark, if not my face, were important pieces to this game. I swallowed and nodded.

"Onwards, then." I gestured uselessly with a limp hand. Cassandra nodded and pointed to the high point of the hill behind them, there sat a tent and a soldier in full armor overlooking the crowded field. His brow was heavy under his helmet and looked at us with something akin to dislike. Perhaps our rag-tag group looked like beggars rather than assistance.

I straightened my back as I climbed the last of the slope. "Corporal Vale?"

"Aye, that's me." He answered gustily. "If you're looking for supplies, I'm sorry to say I don't have any to spare." A flash of irritation gripped my ribs, but I understood his immediate response. He had to care for hundreds of people and a few strangers that wandered in from the hills that he didn't know weren't going to get an ounce of help from him.

"Oh, no, we're fine." My sparkly hand rose and his expression dropped like a sack of bricks. "I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help you, though?" Kill them with kindness, as my mother used to say. Aggression usually didn't get us anywhere, but that wasn't normally my specialty. I inhaled as the corporal bowed his head to me and saluted across his chest, relief washed over his tired face.

"Yes, Lady Herald, we would appreciate that assistance." He stood from his hasty bow as I shot Cassandra a look of _is this how it goes?_

"What needs to be done here, Corporal?" I prompted him, his relief came into nervousness rather quickly. I wasn't sure if it was due to my mark or the companions that now stood beside me. He looked out over the hill, the trees obscuring some of his vision of the settlement. Templars and soldiers and refugees dodged over the road and through the fields under our gaze.

"A couple of things, Herald." He sounded less eager to list them for me. He sighed, "The people here are going hungry. Our storages are soon to run out, but we have a hunter nearby that might have a plan on solving that."

I nodded my head with another glance at Cassandra, who returned the gesture. "Noted. And?"

Another hesitation, but he answered. "We're also low on healing supplies, medical herbs, and necessities for the weak. There's rumor that some of the mages had caches in the Hinterlands or further out by where Dennett may be. There's a recruit by the name of Whittle over yonder who could tell you more."

"Understood." I desperately tried to memorize this information and hoped that my companions would make a list for me. Something crossed the corporal's face and I tilted my head, waiting. When nothing come, I huffed; "... and the last thing, Corporal?"

He grimaced and I knew now that asking for help was paining him. "The refugees here at the crossroads could benefit greatly from a healer. There's one, up by Redcliff, but situation being what it is, she may not come to help us."

My nod was short. "Alright. Hunter, Whittle, healer. We'll see about contacting them and setting up what we can, when we can. Agreed?"

"Agreed." The corporal had too much starch in his shoulders to slump, but I saw it anyway. "Thank you, Herald." There was a moment of hesitation for me. The man looked run down to his boots, his face pulled with exhaustion but his mouth was hard and his chin stern. I was no bard or a snake charmer; that was obvious. I could, though, give him what little hope I had to spare.

"We'll make it, Corporal." My voice softened; empathetic to his plight. "The Inquisition won't let you fall." It was like magic, or at the very least, the magic that I had known back in my world. Movie magic in it's likeness; the Corporal's shoulders rose and his neck strengthened with his back, his eyes aglow with something I couldn't place.

He smirked with a firm, assured nod. "Aye. Thank you, Inquisition."

When I turned to walk down the hill in search of my new quests, I could see Cassandra stand taller behind me. Perhaps this hope thing worked on more than just those I offered it to. My lungs drew in a deep inhale and I made my way down the path toward Whittle first, as he was the easiest to find with a name. Soon after, I trotted back across the settlement to a few huts and found the hunter with his idea of hunting ram. The healer would have to wait, she was a bit too far from our comfort zone (read: my comfort zone) and we still had pressing matters elsewhere.

"There is much to do here." Cassandra murmured to me as we marched back toward the camp set up outside of the settlement. I pursed my lips, thoughtful. She wasn't wrong. Too many hands were grasping for purchase, for help, and there weren't enough people to pull them up from the abyss. I shook my head with a shrug of my shoulders at Cassandra. Varric and Solas perked up behind us.

"There isn't much we can do yet." I started diplomatically, poorly channeling our Lady Ambassador. "The Inquisition as it stands right now is too small to be everywhere at once. We need to plan this so that we help in the most efficient way with the power we have."

"That will leave some to suffer." Solas' remark of the Devil's Advocate appeared behind me. "That could look poorly on the Inquisition."

"I can't do all of it." I answered sharply. He remained at peace, expression neutral with a high brow. "If I try to give a little bit out to everyone, then they'll all starve together. If I give what we have in bundles to those who can contribute, then only some of them will starve. It's bad ethics, but good math."

Varric's nose pinched. "Not sure the people are going to see it that way, sweetheart."

"Look, I know, okay?" I inhaled deeply, my voice tight. "We need to recruit aggressively, but people aren't going to join an organization that isn't going to help them or is stretched too thin." My hand came up and passed over my forehead with a rough swipe of my palm. "Cassandra."

"Yes?" She had been quiet through most of the discussion and it bothered me. She looked to me now with a sharp sideways glance and furrowed mouth. I couldn't tell if she agreed with me or not, her face was always perpetually scowling.

"We'll have the Inquisition set up a few more camps, have them start assisting the Templars and bring in whatever mages can be found that are _willing_." I sighed deeply, thinking with a headache forming behind my eyes. I pinched the bridge of my nose and pushed my fingertips into the inward dips of my eyes. "We don't have the man power right now to spare for hunting, but we'll have traps set up. Whatever supplies we _can_ spare, send them to Whittle and have him distribute as he sees fair."

Her shoulders relaxed a fraction. "Of course, Herald. I'll have word sent to Scout Harding and our requisitions officers. They will handle it from there."

"Good." With an exhale, I looked over my shoulders to the men following me. "Acceptable?"

"It's a start." Varric said agreeably. Solas followed with a nod of his head.

My eyes closed as I shook my head. "You guys are going to drive me fucking nutters."

 _But it's a start._


	5. ACT I: On Earth, As It Is In Heaven

**Running On Empty:** _On Earth, As It Is In Heaven_

 **Note:** _My friend has made me aware that I have messed up some names as I write this. Given the fact that whenever I play the game with her she's leaps and bounds ahead of where my chapters are, it's a given. Again, this story is unedited by a beta._

 _Another point: The game plays out in a certain way to entertain a player. As this is a novelization, certain quests don't make sense to do alone, or restrict to 3 people and an Inquisitor for balance purposes. I'll keep as true as possible, without making strange, unsound decisions on changing power balances._

 _Thanks and enjoy!_

* * *

The trip back to Haven was a long one. Without the horses from Dennett, we had to stick to caravans and the pace was abysmal. Cassandra had suggested we attempt to at least get into contact with Dennett, but with the crossroads needing so much attention and the surrounding area being hostile and erupting with chaos, I knew we would have been dead before we even tried. It pained her as much as it did me, but we just didn't have the man-power or the brute force to take control of the Hinterlands.

 _We need men._ The Commander and Lady Montilyet had tasked us (or me, specifically) with recruiting people where we could, but it seemed impossible. The every-day man currently was more concerned with making sure his family was fed and his supplies weren't stolen. He wasn't about to run off into the great beyond and help others when he could barely help himself. _Or maybe I'm assuming too little of these people._ I may have just placed them further in the selfish corner than they actually merited.

 _They're not you, Jaime._

A heavy sigh escaped me as our caravan pulled into Haven, the people bustling around us to unload our supplies and materials. At the very least, the trip to the Hinterlands wasn't a complete waste. The soldiers had managed to collect ore and herbs that were sorely needed for our own troops, and those were being immediately shipped to Harritt and his crew.

I trudged up the long path toward the Chantry with Solas and Varric behind me. I suppose I had been uncharacteristically quiet on the return trip, but there was a lot to think about. I could feel their stares bore into my back and waited until I was at Varric's fire pit and tent before I turned toward them, wary.

"You might as well say it." I groused, my arms crossed loosely over my chest.

"I wasn't going to say anything." Varric shot back with a smile.

"Liar." I rebuffed. "I don't know what to do, all right? I want to help, I do, but I can't. _We_ can't. It's like being a beggar and giving my only gold piece to the beggar next to me. I won't be able to help if I do that, can I?"

"Then our next best option would be to find more beggars willing to supplement our coffers." Solas added thoughtfully. "I suppose I see your dilemma, you believe that everyone here is on equal footing as you, and so thus helping would no further assist them as it would you."

It stuck to have it put so plainly. "W-well... yeah? Isn't everyone in the same sinking ship as I am? This fucking thing," I pointed to the split that snarled through the sky above the decimated Temple, "doesn't care who it hurts or kills because it doesn't have that sentient function to do so. A blizzard doesn't care what it takes, nature has no wants, only absolutes."

Solas blinked at me, his ears twitching slightly. "I see. Interesting thought process."

Varric sighed heavily and set Bianca down by his tent. "Look, sweetheart, I'm not saying we should toss out coin to everyone who has their hand out, I'm only saying maybe we shouldn't be so... totalitarian when it comes to our help."

My inhale was deep and I held it in my lungs for a brief second. "Varric. I'm - I'm right there with you, I am. But I can't starve us. We can't help if our ship sinks first. I - I'll have to talk to Leliana and Lady Montilyet about it. If we got more men or volunteers or something, then maybe..."

"You could always attempt to hire mercenaries." Solas said with a shrug. "I, myself, would not trust in their hands too much, but if it's power that we need, they would be the first to come."

"At a price," I countered sourly. "I don't know if we have those kind of funds."

"We should." Varric tilted his head toward me, his hands on his broad hips. "Josephine isn't going to let the Inquisition run dry, and she's pulling funds from desperate nobles and countrymen alike. Ask, see if we can start something up that way." I nodded. That half-assed plan would have to suffice, it wasn't like we had much more to use. My hand came up and rubbed harshly against my eyes before I turned on my feet and trotted up toward the Chantry.

The levels of anxiety I had been suffering were already inhumanly high and they were made worse with a heavy dose of panic as I came upon a mob just outside of the Chantry's gates. My knees locked and my feet dug into the snow. I had half a mind to turn my heels and run in the other direction; the shouting was echoing through the settlement of Haven now with heads turning at the commotion.

I _almost_ bolted until I saw a flash of familiar armor. Commander Cullen stood at the middle of it, trying to fend off the incoming tides of people on either side. A strong beat of my heart had it slam up under my tongue and against my better judgment, my feet dug into the snow and shot me forward.

"Your kind killed the Most Holy!" There was a spitting Templar that dove into the center, his hand resting tightly on his sword. A man in robes, a mage, stood before him, defending the others that were gathered behind him.

"Lies!" The mage gripped his staff and I knew this would not end well, I wasn't running fast enough. " _Your_ kind _let_ her die!"

"Shut your mouth!" The Templar attempted to draw his sword just as the mage whirled his staff with an electrical charge. I dove for the mage, he was the only one I could reach, and snagged his elbow to draw off his aim. Cullen had turned from placating the other parts of the crowd in time to see the commotion and roared his way into the middle.

"Enough!" It was impressive to watch the Commander take both the mage's and Templar's arms and ground them to an immediate halt. My hands slipped off the mage's elbow as he was shook off by the Commander. Everyone within five feet of the silently snarling Cullen drew a hasty retreat to a safer distance.

"Knight-Captain!" The Templar snarled, betrayed. I ducked behind the mages to get along Cullen's side, my hand not quite ready to take my maul from my back, but holding the handle was reassuring for me. Cullen turned on the Templar with a sour snarl and his shoulders hiked under his furred armor, coiled with anger.

"That is _not_ my title any longer." Cullen growled. His eyes flashed between the two for a moment and I could practically hear the cavern of his lungs swell as he took a heavy inhale to calm himself. His gaze slit to the Templar, "We are _not_ Templars anymore. We are _all_ a part of the Inquisition!" I stood in the shadow of the Commander, hidden from the view of the mages and Templars that snapped at each other in front of him. A hard swallow was forced down my throat. These people wanted blood and I was nearly sure that blood would be mine if they knew the truth.

"And what does that mean, exactly?"

I snarled nearly as loudly as the Commander did at the sound of Roderick's voice. The chancellor wadded his way up through the crowd with his hands behind his back. I stood at attention next to the Commander, startling the older man a bit as he caught a sideways glance of me. My mouth set into a hard line as I waited. The Commander turned his darkened gaze back to the approaching Chancellor.

"Back already, Chancellor?" The heated venom coated Cullen's lips. "Haven't you done enough?"

"I'm curious, Commander." The Chancellor's dark gaze switched to me and I puffed my chest as best I could under my leather armor and belts. "As to how the Inquisition, and its _Herald_ , will restore order as you've promised?"

Cullen's shoulders stiffened, his tone suddenly exhausted. "Of _course_ you are." Our gazes met at just the peak of his shoulder and I stood a bit closer to his arm, unsure of the message. _I need to get better at reading people._ My chin tucked down as I slid my eyes back to the Chancellor, watching him as he circled with the crowd's attention.

 _He's got no right to call me a warmonger when he does shit like this._ A glare was quick to pinch my face as Roderick's eyes came back to me. The Commander was quick to disperse the remaining members of the crowd, I stayed in my place before the door, my gaze locked with Roderick's. The Commander noticed the standoff as he came back toward the center and stood before me, his arms crossed.

"The mages and Templars were already at war." The Commander tells me over his shoulder. I had managed to retain a little of what The Hydra (Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine) had tried to educate me on concerning the very war I was currently placed into. I blinked over at Roderick, the Chancellor scowled at us like a pair of stray dogs. It was a long-standing dispute for everyone, and I had barely enough knowledge on it to make a cohesive statement. I was dreading the day it came down to having to choose a side. Here I hoped, we could settle it before it all came to an even uglier standoff than just a high-school spat outside the Chantry doors.

The Commander huffed, arms tight across his chest. "And now they're blaming each other for the Divine's death."

"Which is why we need a _proper_ authority to bring them to order." Roderick interjected heatedly.

"Who?" The Commander demanded with a snort. "You? Random clerics that weren't important enough to attend the Conclave?" A snicker escaped me. The Divine's death was no laughing matter. From what I could tell, Cassandra and Leliana still grieved (in their own ways) and the people were left with a terribly long shadow to fill. I felt for them, deeply, and could see that the chaos was a good part of unrelenting pain felt by those who missed her. Cullen was right, though, anyone unimportant enough to be left from the collection at the Conclave was no better suited to run the Chantry than I was to run the Inquisition.

You know, because I at least saw the hell hole that hung over our heads.

"This rebel Inquisition and it's so-called _Herald_ are in no position to decide the fate of this madness!" Roderick's face paled a bit, the cold getting to him and his anger twisted his face.

"You know," I poked my head out just a bit from behind the Commander, " _you're_ the only one that's raving about how we can't work together. At least I'm _trying._ " The sullen look on the Commander's face flashed into a smirk and he shot me a look that clearly indicated I was decidedly Not Helping, but it wasn't necessarily Not Funny either. I won, regardless.

"We _could,_ " Roderick lowered his steely gaze to me, "If the Inquisition would recognize the Chantry's authority."

My mouth opened, but Cullen cut me off, "There _is_ no authority because there is no Divine. So the Inquisition will function under its on judgment until such a time."

"All in due time, indeed." The Chancellor snapped back. His hands folded behind his back. "Andraste will guide us, not some dazed wanderer from the mountainside." My nose scrunched, but I was hardly offended. The story of my "upbringing" as an orphan had spread like a freaking wildfire and many had taken it to comparison with their Andraste - a "barbaric" start, a woman to lead where men failed.

Painfully, I kept my mouth shut. I was far from any God, lest of all the _bride_ to one.

I read.

A heavy glare set on my face. "Remind me again why we're allowing him to prance about the front doors?"

"Clearly your _Templar_ knows where to draw the line." Roderick sneered smugly.

"He's toothless." The Commander spat, his eyes nailed to Roderick's leaning form. "There's no sense in turning him into a martyr simply because he runs at the mouth."

"Hmph." I swiveled around to Cullen's other side and watched as Roderick's eyes followed me. "If you say so. I would rather not have someone instigating riots among the people. We have business to do, not cater to a show-dog's ego."

The Commander gave a hard, amused snort and shot me a look. "The Chancellor is a good indicator of what to expect at Val Royeaux." I hesitated at that. The Chancellor was already a handful as he was, but multiplying him by ten or so, or _more..._ That sounded like a daunting task. I hope Leliana was right, and that Mother Giselle's advice would serve us well.

"I-I'll try to make them see reason when I'm there." The stutter I couldn't stop. The Commander eyed me with a critical eye and then sighed heavily. He gave me a half shrug and a nod, his gaze turned back toward the Chancellor.

"I pray you're right." The Commander murmured. The weary tone was a blow to my confidence. The muscles of my shoulders hunched tightly and I turned to make my way into the Chantry, dismissed by his words. I wasn't a leader, I knew that, and so did they, so I wondered why it was so surprising that I wasn't jumping at every opportunity to prove myself.

This wasn't my world. I had barely come to accept the fact that I wasn't going to wake up in my own bed back home. There was too much pain I had taken, too much stress, to have slept through it all. My throat worked down a dry swallow as the warmth of the Chantry enveloped me. I continued my walk, head lowered and eyes to the ground.

The Inquisition shouldn't have been made my responsibility. I was in no position, mentally or emotionally, to handle the sudden duties shoved into my arms and laid across my shoulders. Nothing from my previous life could help me, I did things on my own, followed my own path without dragging anyone else into it because I didn't want to be responsible to what happened to them.

I worked on teams, played sports, went to rallies, but I was only ever a _team member_ , not a team _lead._ Projects and debates and sports matches were easy, _because they ended_. This was turning into a never-ending cycle of death and destruction and chaos.

I didn't want that. I didn't want that _at all_.

"How goes the plan to seal the Breach, Herald?" Mother Giselle's voice knifed through my thoughts. My head snapped up and I blinked hard with the candle light, surprised I had gotten so far without noticing. She stood close to Josephine's door, a pile of her belongings and parchments circled behind her.

"As w-well as it can go, with what power we have." I answered diplomatically. No sense in shooting down hope despite mine all but completely emptied. I nodded my head, "I hope you're settling in well, Mother Giselle."

"I am." She assessed me, again, with clever eyes. "... The plans to seal the Breach are quite daunting. I hope you are not doing it alone."

 _I am alone._ I grimaced and forced it into a gentle smile. "I'm not," I lied, my tongue heavy at the back of my throat, "Lady Leliana and Lady Cassandra have been helpful."

Another long look, her chin tilted up. "We remember Andraste alone against the world, a spearhead to the Exalted March, but we mustn't forget she was surrounded by many." Mother Giselle smiled at me, careful and quiet. "She had advisors, guards, friends - even her husband, for a time." I stood, silent and listening. I had read what I could of Andraste from Leliana's books, in the hopes that I could play on the fact that people saw me as her Herald, but the information was scattered in my mind.

"Do what you can _within_ your power." Mother Giselle's words were warm, but I could hear the warning, "but do not forget those who are around to help you." My feet shuffled my weight and my eyes stared a little past the Mother's shoulder. With a gentle nod, I focused back on her, still unclear of what she expected of me.

"Thank you. The... comparison is humbling." It was a pitiful thing to say, but I was left with nothing else. I wasn't a religious sort, and the closest I had come to it was listening to my grandma every Christmas go on about the Lord Savior and there was only so much of that a seven year old could take to heart.

"It is meant to encourage you." Mother Giselle eased. "From what I have heard of the people here, you are isolated and hardly reach out." She bowed her head to me, once more I was amazed at the holding power of her headdress. "There is little enough I can do to aid you, and I am more than willing to lend an ear."

Unexpectedly, tears sprang to my eyes. I choked, "I th-thank you, Mother Giselle." I gave her a weak laugh and blinked away the water from my vision. "... I suppose I should stop jumping at shadows and allow my advisors to reach me a bit more."

Mother Giselle nodded, concerned at my tone, but she didn't press. "In any case, I pray this Inquisition proves less brutal than its predecessor."

"Of course," I murmured, with nothing else to say. "Thank you again, Mother. Please, if you need anything." My heels were hasty in drawing me away from Mother Giselle. Her gaze frightened me, because though I was sure she knew nothing about me, her assessments of my mental state were closer to the nail's head when she struck than I would have liked.

I saw the Commander walk into the War Room in front of me, most likely having passed me during my conversation with the Mother. My feet hurried me along as Josephine had already left her room and Leliana was probably waiting for the rest of us to show. Cassandra came up behind me, stern faced as usual, and hesitated.

My feet paused as I caught her look, prompting her with a raised brow.

She looked down at my left hand. "I always mean to ask as the days go on, I know I asked before, but..."

"But asking about a hell-mouth in someone's hand is a tricky conversation starter." I joked. She winced and a heavy sigh escaped me. Joking with the Seeker wasn't hard, but sometimes her wires were frayed and sparked closer to the surface than she would like. She was about as emotional as I was, on a relatively awkward day.

"That it is," Cassandra relented. My vision spied a small glance at the Mother not far from us, but she seemed occupied with someone else.

"It _really_ has stopped hurting." The reply was quiet. I turned my hand up for Cassandra to view the gentle pulse of the emerald light between the lines of my palm. Her chin rose a fraction and her shoulders went stiff as she looked down at it. For me, after nearly two months, it had become the norm. A soft, secondary heartbeat apart from my own that flared to life near rifts and demons, and was a chilling night-light in the darkness.

"You will tell us when that changes, yes? I don't mean to be overbearing by always asking." Cassandra replied gently. I gave her a silent nod and gestured with the same hand to have her go before me. We had much to do, regardless of how much my stomach dreaded it and my throat chafed at the idea.

The faces of The Hydra were grim at best. Lady Montilyet looked the more amicable of them all. The Commander stood stiffly at the middle of the table at the other end, his eyes roaming over the maps. I glanced at them and was surprised to find that figures of towers and rook-pieces were scattered all across the way. _Strategic points of advancement_ , my mind supplied, listening.

"... I still believe that having the Herald address the Chantry Clerics is the best option we have." Lady Montilyet picked up her conversation once we were all in the room and the door shut behind us. A hard swallow went down my throat and sweat collected at the back of my next by my hairline.

The sounds of distant, dooming music could probably be heard, I'm sure.

"You can't be serious." The Commander hissed with a spare glance at me. "We would be throwing her into a pack of starving wolves!" The Ping-Pong ball shot back to Lady Montilyet and she was the picture of calm and patience. Many a night went by that I wished I had her confidence.

"Mother Giselle is not wrong; the Chantry's only strength at this point is their unified voice." She tipped her head lightly, challenging the Commander. The older man inhaled from the bowels of his stomach and turned with a hand gripped to the back of his head. A wince flashed over my face.

"And we should ignore the danger to the Herald?" Leliana voiced the Commander's worry, arms behind her back and face set in stone. Lady Montilyet sighed and turned her honeyed gaze to me. I felt no relaxation, this woman may have been brought up in a prosperous homestead, but she hand teeth of her own that she sharpened constantly.

With stiff shoulders, I glanced at the maps for a moment to think. The Commander's eyes settled on me a few seconds afterwards and I shudder under the attention. _I'm not a soldier. I'm not a politician. I can't do this._ A hard blink cleared my vision, as it had started to tilt in my panic.

"... I don't know what I'm going to say to them." I winced as my voice started to shake. My eyes came up to the Commander's hard face and then shifted between Leliana and Lady Montilyet. This was what I had been thinking about the other day, wasn't it? No one else could do this job, no one else could stand in front of the clerics and make them doubt for a moment what I was, what I could be.

It _had_ to be me.

"Honesty is very charming, coming from you." Leliana's eyes smiled with small crinkles at their corners, despite her firm mouth. "You are, as we've discussed, orphaned, simple, and emotional."

The Commander snorted and I shot him a heated look. Rightly, he turned his gaze away.

Leliana chuckled, "These are not bad qualities to have. Despite what you may think of yourself, you've endeared many of our Inquisition to your cause."

"I've done nothing to earn that." I hiccupped. "I-I don't talk to people, I don't go around h-helping them, I've literally _sat on my hands_ and let Cassandra do everything."

"You sit with Harritt nearly every day." The Commander murmured. Another frown formed on my face and he held up a hand, attempting to placate my harried emotions. "You do. You've trained with our men, both veterans and fledglings alike are willing to help you, let you rest on their shoulders."

"You may not talk to everyone," Cassandra added. A blush went across my face, the bubble of embarrassment popping behind my lungs. I hadn't been fishing for compliments or reassurances. I figuratively tucked my tail between my legs as Cassandra narrowed her eyes on me, "But when you _do_ speak, it is sincere and genuine. Even the hardiest of us can detect that."

"Th-thanks, um." I struggled to breathe, lest of all speak. "I suppose I'll just have to drag that to the clerics with me."

"Have faith, Herald." Lady Montilyet soothed with a smile. "As long as you don't swear and curse like you normally do, we should be fine."

"I thought we were going for honest here?" I joked weakly.

The Hydra's glare was a thing to behold.

Cassandra sighed. "I will go with her." She shot me a glare as well, but my gaze had swiftly turned upward, fascinated by the chandelier. She cleared her throat and looked to Leliana, my gaze tentatively falling back down to the people around me. "Mother Giselle said she had names? Use them."

"But why?" Leliana's face contorted slightly. "This is nothing but -"

"We need help." Cassandra growled, pained by the idea. "Right now, we cannot approach anyone for help with the Breach." Her eyes turned to the Commander and the other man had the instinct to draw up straight and square his shoulders, ready for the bite. "Use what influences we have to bring the clerics together. We'll be there, and we can show them we can follow through."

The Hydra shared a look amongst its heads; Lady Montilyet nodded, assuaged.

"It will be done."

The travel to Val Royeaux was uneventful. Once more, we did not have adequate horses to get us there at a faster pace, we had to make do with caravans that traveled in the same direction, or other sects of the Inquisitions that had set up camps and settlements along the way. I had taken the time to assess what I could of my conversations with the The Hydra and Mother Giselle. Clearly, they were seeing something that was beyond my comprehension. As far as I knew, I was alone. I barely spoke to anyone and most of the time I was too busy running from the Commander's torture or hiding from Lady Montilyet's lessons.

From the corner of my peripheral, Cassandra walked alongside the caravan that we escorted and I just a pace or so behind her. Her armor had changed over the course of the months that I had been with them, improvements made by Harritt as more material came in from the Hinterlands or other places within Ferelden that I (or rather, the Commander) had sent troops to find. Cassandra caught my eye and slowed her walk to come up beside me, head tilted and her mouth always as stern as normal.

"Cassandra," I started lamely and sputtered. Where was I going to go with this? What was I looking to say to her? With a struggle, I wrangled my throat into submission. She waited as patiently as she was able.

"Yes, Herald?" She prompted after a few too many seconds of silence. I shrugged heavily and cleared my throat. Cassandra was just as bad at starting conversation as I was; she was skilled in rallying a crowd or making someone aware of her presence with a single blistering sentence, but when it came to friendly chatting, we were equals.

Equals in floundering awkwardness, at least.

"You know." She started up again, voice quiet with the people that traveled around us. "When you came to us, that day the Breach had split the sky, I had been ready to kill you." My eyes went wide and I snapped my attention to her. I remember that day, regardless of how much time could have passed for us, months, weeks, years, I would vehemently remember the day a viper stood before me and nearly took my head clean from my neck had it not been for Leliana's interference.

I swallowed, keeping my voice low. "I remember. You were royally pissed off."

"Upset, yes." She peered a heavy glance at me. "Since that day, I wonder if I had done the right thing?" My throat constricted. The _right_ thing was up for debate. Back then I had imagined all this a dream, an illusion of too much sugar and drink the hour before I had passed out, but as it stood now, it was very real. The _right_ thing would have been to kill me, perhaps, and that sent a chill down my spine. I said nothing to her and remained silent, my chin tucked down slightly to my throat.

"One day they may write about me as a traitor, a madwoman. A fool." She sighed and gripped the hilt of her sword at her side. "And they may be right."

I had no rebuttal for that. My shoulders shrugged loosely. "It's a bit late to turn back now." I glanced at her, but her eyes were ahead of us, to where the leader of the caravan walked on, accompanied by Solas and in pleasant conversation, it seemed. A cold inhale went through my nose before I looked back up at her. She was only taller by inches, but she carried herself as if she stood miles above everyone else. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you didn't. I was terrified every step we took that you would kill me."

"It had crossed my mind, yes." She answered lowly. "My temper did always rule my actions before reason could catch up. I cannot afford to be so careless again."

"You had cause, Cassandra." I supplied gently. She looked disgusted with the reply and I hurried to explain: "No, no. Listen. Look at the situation, alright? Hundreds of people had just been massacred, your Divine gone or dead, and the only survivor was me..." I hesitated, because giving her justification in her actions meant that she _could have_ killed me and there would have been no one to slap her with repercussions - aside from a _then_ unseal-able Breach.

"In any case," She winced. It was likely she had gone along the same thought process as me. "You are here now, and we will continue forward."

"One way or another, for sure." Pep-talks were not my strong point, and it showed.

"I'm curious." She said after a few minutes of amicable silence. With an inquiring hum, I looked up at her. Her mouth twitched as it always did when she wanted to say something badly, but either did not have the words or the tact to put it into sentences.

I chuckled, "Out with it, Seeker."

"Do you believe in the Maker?" She blurted with a sharp glance to me. She rushed forward, "Now with all that you've read, and know of our world?" One eye of mine winced as cold terror slithered through me. _No_ , was the immediate answer, because if I couldn't believe in God within my own realm of existence, there was no way I could be able to believe in such a thing or creator in another world, regardless of how I got there.

"I couldn't tell you, honestly." It was the best I could come up with, without lying to her. My intent originally had been to bond with my companions, but now I found myself wading through lava to keep myself on Cassandra's good side. I didn't know if we were established enough as friends or comrades for me to blurt my true thoughts to her, despite her seeming readiness to do so for me. She was still silent and I realized she waited for an elaboration.

Once more, I had nothing. "I guess... here you have something similar, people who believe and don't." My eyes flickered along the train of the caravan, taking care to watch my words. "From what you know of me, I was shot across the realms of reality to here, Cassandra. I don't know what to believe." Earnestly, my gaze turned to her and I tilted my head, saddened. "What god would do this to me? Would put me in the place of absolute destruction and hope that his free-willed, independent children would do the _right_ thing?" I pressed upon the word, to make her understand. Sometimes what we saw as the right thing wasn't always so.

She was pensive and gave me a curt nod. "I suppose you're right. We here who believe already feel the burn in our hearts, the betrayal of _why,_ why would he do this to us, to his most faithful?"

"Our experiences color things differently for all of us." I added on when she fell silent again. She shared a look with me and all I could offer was a weak smile. "What could be right for you does nothing for me, or hurts me. What I think is right for me could be the worst thing to happen to you. What we decide to do now, Maker or no, will be who we are to become in the future. I want to be a good person, and so now..."

"You will do good things." Cassandra breathed, following along. She swallowed and nodded. "I see your point. Thank you, Herald."

I blinked up at her. "Eh?"

"For your wisdom." Cassandra shot me an amused look. "You are not as simple as you seem, and beneath all the terror you hide under, you are quite skilled at managing the fears of others."

"Horseshit." I snorted roughly. Cassandra chuckled as I continued. "I'm not like Lady Montilyet or Mother Giselle. The shit that tumbles out of my mouth is literally just that, bullshit."

"How much shit must you have," Cassandra groused, fighting another laugh. "Horse shit, bull shit, and regular shit. What would your mother think?"

"She usually bought extra bars of soap just for me."

It was good to make Cassandra laugh.


	6. ACT I: Homeward Bound

**Running On Empty:** _Homeward Bound_

 **Note:** _Thanks to the five that left reviews! It's appreciated, and to all the follows and favorites, I'm glad to know people are keeping up with the story, so thank you! Please try to leave a review while logged in, as I like responding to them._

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It took us nearly a full month to get to Val Royeaux. Without horses (again) and traveling with a group made things a bit tricky. Cassandra, at least, was warmer toward me. I may not have believed in the things that she believed, but to know that I didn't shoot her down first thing gave us a chance. Now, I just had to work on Solas and Varric. A handful of months spent together did not friendships make, not if I spent most of my time running away from them and my duties.

Still, time would tell. Best not to force it.

Afternoon of the last day of our travel, I was exhausted. My heels had disappeared into my ankles, my calves were hissing with low, angry, cackling fire and my torso had a permanent stitch in _both_ sides. I treasured my water-skin like a firstborn child and had it refilled more than was necessary, simply because of how much I drank. The Sahara had taken residence in my stomach. The city had pulled up in front of us like the towering city horizon of New York, but with less lights and more glittering gold and brass. So perhaps a bit more like New York, but I couldn't judge accurately as I had only visited once in the eight grade.

The city was massive and in a beautiful oasis of swaying trees and copper toned stones that bristled under the sunlight. There was a bridge, one of the few main ones, that led into the mouth of the city. It was very reminiscent of Wizard of Oz, now that I stopped to think about it as we crossed over the bridge and toward the gates. The road wasn't golden (that might have been a bit _too_ gaudy for them, I would think), and the buildings weren't emerald blazed, but the feeling was very much the same. A fairy land, a wonderland so much like the big cities of my world and yet so painfully, inescapably different.

I stared as we walked, Cassandra leading the way.

As our troupe of four made their way over the bridge, from the bottom of my vision as I stared up at the spires that were the buildings, I could spot people stopping to gaze _at us_ , and a handful even bolted from sight if they had made eye contact with myself or Cassandra. Like a new puppy, my head tilted toward Cassandra, silently begging an explanation.

"The city still mourns." She offered with a frown. "Val Royeaux has always had a strong connection to the Chantry, as well as the Divine. Her passing has been a great blow to them."

 _Right_ , my mouth scrunched over my chin, _I am going into the viper's lair that I've already rustled. Fantastic._

"This is just a guess, Seeker." Varric murmured from behind us, watching as another couple dashed away from us. "But I think they know who we are."

Cassandra dropped a deadpanned look upon him like a bomb. "Your skills at observation never fail to impress me, Varric." Solas and I snorted behind the pair and promptly glanced away to murmur about the blue pigment used on the walls when Cassandra's lightning gaze found us. I continued to snicker when she finally turned away, Solas smirking at my amusement. Varric snorted at us and shook a fist in a brief, mock sense of offense.

A slender figure caught my attention as it ran up toward us, _directly_ toward us and not off to one side as the others had. I focused as Cassandra drew up sharp to her shoulders. Varric and Solas, as per the usual, kept behind us and quiet, waiting patiently.

"My Lady Herald." They were young, by the sound of their voice. I couldn't tell who they were, as the hood they wore came down low over their brow and the rest of their armor smothered them in ambiguity. My bones jumped under my skin when I realized they were speaking to me and not Cassandra. My viper took the initiative and stepped forward with a permissive glance at me.

"You're one of Leliana's people." Cassandra addressed the scout with a tip of her chin. "What have you found?"

"The Chantry Mothers await you, but..." The scout looked back to me, saddened. "So do a great deal of Templars."

Cassandra cast me a worried look. "There are Templars here?"

"Yes," the scout murmured apologetically. "People seem to believe that the Templars will protect them from - from the _Inquisition_." A wince snapped at my eye. We should have seen that coming. The mages and the Chantry may not have been friends or allies, but the Templars still had support and a place to stand amongst the people of Thedas. My lungs drew a cold breath that stung along my throat and steeled my shoulders. _I should have seen this coming. This isn't a viper's nest, it's a lion's den._ My body shivered upon consideration that I may not have worn enough armor.

"Where are they?" Cassandra demanded with her fists tight at her side.

"They're gathered on the other side of the market. That's where the Templars intend to meet you."

I exhaled the breath I was holding, "It feels like an a-ambush."

"Don't worry, sweetheart." Varric always dove into my panic headfirst when he knew I would start to noose myself. My eyes shot down to him at my side and he smiled wide, arms spread in placation. "You have the Seeker here, and Chuckles. There's nothing scarier in this city than these two."

"Varric." Cassandra growled. Solas patiently pretended to miss the jab. My nerves were far from soothed, but his humor calmed me. Varric was much like my long lost brother from my realm. A realist, to be sure, but with a gallows humor that was spot on most days. A sigh escaped me and I nodded, at ease next to my companions.

Cassandra pinned her gaze back on the scout. "Only one thing left to do, then. Return to Haven, someone will need to inform them in case we are... delayed." I spared the scout a nod as we walked past them. A second glance over my shoulder had them gone from sight like a fly into the wind and I hurried to be at Cassandra's heels, flashing back to my first trip to school and wishing desperately to hold someone's hand. I was twenty-six years old and not once in the whole time that I had been here did I feel like I was old enough to be on the ride.

My viper was seething. I could practically hear her hissing.

"Cassandra?" I inquired gently once I caught up to her side.

"They wish to protect the people?" Cassandra snarled quietly; her strides long. "From _us?_ " There was nothing I could to ease her agitation, though. The rest of us followed in her terrifying wake and were bombarded upon entry. The market was circular, a spiraling building at the center that was surrounded by a small moat that was fenced off and bridged as well. It was a decorative work that drew the eye, but it also blocked from view our impeding evisceration. As we came around the market, dodging through a few small groups of people, the chatter grew to a cacophony as we spied a raised platform past the public gallows, on it stood a collection of Chantry members and Templars.

My spine trembled as we approached and I forced my feet to continue forward, ignoring the sensation of how they melted into the ground.

"Good people of Val Royeaux, hear me!" The voice was smooth and commanded presence at the middle of the raised platform. She carried over the chaotic conversations that bubbled at her feet. The crowd drew in a breath of silence, erratic as they focused on her. I peered through the crowd up to the Chantry Mother, Cassandra glued to my side with Solas and Varric at my heels. "Together, we mourn our Divine! Her naive and beautiful heart silenced by treachery!"

I was pinned to where I stood as the Chantry Mother made her way across the platform to me, glaring down with her self-inflected righteousness.

"You wonder what will become of her murderer?" The Mother stepped away from the edge, her boots scuffed on the wood. The crowd finally realized where her gaze had landed and circled on me like predators. My spine was electrocuted as I became the center of attention and snapped itself upright, my maul a heated, heavy rod at my back. The Mother's glare turned vicious and crinkled her eyes and mouth, "Well, wonder no more!"

Cassandra and Solas immediately shadowed up to my sides, barriers of protection against any ambush. Varric stayed low and away from the crowd, out of the corner of my sight.

"Behold," The Mother sneered, "the so-called _Herald of Andraste_! Claiming to rise where our beloved fell!" Her shoulders bunched under her cloak as she paced along the platform. A few of the Templars behind her eyed me with suspicious and curiosity, perhaps waiting for me to smite (smote?) the Mother where she stood. _Please_ , I begged the clouds just above the Mother's head, _Maker if you exist here, strike_ me _dead and let Cassandra deal with this._

 _That's cruel, don't do that._

"We say that this is a false prophet!" The Mother narrowed her gaze on me and stood stone still at the center of the platform. "No servant of anything beyond her own selfish greed!" _There is literally nothing in this world I could want_ , I wanted to argue, but it wouldn't help the situation. If I had the power they thought I did, I would go straight back home and let them all deal with this, and then desperately try to ignore the pull in my heart for abandoning all of them.

I wasn't perfect, cruel or otherwise. Cassandra stepped forward, but for some fucking reason, my hand snaked out and snapped at her elbow. She paused, but did not look at me. She knew, like I was starting to understand, that we had to present a united, cohesive front. One shield, one banner, one Inquisition. Deep from the bottom of my stomach I breathed and stepped forward, my head inclined to allow my voice to carry like the Mother's had.

"Please, we came in peace!" I called out to her, and then looked to the crowd. "Simply to talk - and _this_ is what you do?" I was all for instigating a fight when I knew my odds, but here my odds were not good. This was not my world, for the hundredth time that I had to remind myself, and their rules were different. The Mother was unmoved and I implored her once more, "Please! We have a gate of demons sitting over our heads, let's sit down and talk about the real threat!" The crowd around me chattered, alarmed at the mention of the Breach. You couldn't see it from Val Royeaux, and once I would have thought it comforting, but it made it far too easy to forget the danger it posed.

"It's true!" Cassandra came up to my side again, her voice stronger than mine. "The Inquisition seeks to _end_ this madness before it's too late!" Solas twitched behind us, mildly uncomfortable, I would suspect. I turned to reassure myself that no one had accosted him or snatched his staff, but his gaze was away and I followed it. My eyes grew wide and I hastily pawed at Cassandra's arm as she argued with the Mother. My viper's eyes caught sight of the newest addition to our madness. Their armor clanged and hissed as they marched toward the platform, the Mother smug as she stepped back to allow them space.

Templars. A whole _troupe_ of Templars.

"The Templars have returned to the Chantry!" The Mother cried. "They will face this _Inquisition_ , and the people will be safe once more!" I felt both Cassandra and Solas' hands trap my elbows in their grip and my stomach plummeted to my knees at the thought that we would have to dash through this massive crowd to escape an armed force. That was not to be, however, as all three of us jolted with alarm as a second Templar behind the leading one struck the Mother at the back of her head.

There was a beat of silence, and then chaos.

Instinctively, my legs wrenched me forward toward the platform and caught the mother's head before she kissed the wood. Her headdress rolled from her head and the other sisters around her dove to her side. I glared up at the Templars, a bubbling, growling rage under my ribs. The Chantry as a whole was against me, but that gave no one the right to strike an elderly woman's head in a wild sucker punch. The fucking nerve.

"What the fucking hell is your problem?" I growled, my voice a rumble in my throat. A few Templars looked at me sharply, worry marred their expressions. Even my viper's gaze searched my face hastily, surprised by my sudden anger. The Mother was pulled away from my hands by the sisters and I resisted the urge to haul my ass up onto the platform. This wasn't a schoolyard or barroom fight. Best to stay on the ground and make him come to me, if he decided to strike.

"Her claim to _authority_ is an insult." The Templar snarled. "Much like _yours_." My shoulders itched at the dismissal and I pushed off the platform to follow him as he stormed away. Cassandra made an awkward dash to get in front of me and addressed the Templar with shock.

"Lord Seeker Lucius," Cassandra called as she dove between people to follow him, "It's imperative that we speak -"

"You will _not_ address me." The supposed Lord Seeker pinned Cassandra with a heel turn. My viper paused with a stuttered step.

"Lord Seeker?" It was a first to have Cassandra sound so lost. My annoyance spiked as I came up behind her, my palms itched to hold my maul. Solas flanked Cassandra's other side, his honed gaze flashing between both parties, unsure of where the threat was to strike first. Varric was gone from my sight, but I assumed he was behind us, as that's where he was most useful.

"Creating a heretical movement," The Lord Seeker began, his dark eyes chained to Cassandra, "raising a puppet as Andraste's prophet. You should be ashamed." Solas' hand once again appeared at my elbow and it was the only indication that I had stepped forward in retaliation. This was ridiculous. I knew, expected it, even, that people would spit down at me and smear my forged name across the coals, but to hear someone go after _Cassandra_ set something ablaze in my stomach. _No one_ cruellysassed Cassandra, not while I was within fucking earshot.

"You should all be ashamed," The Lord Seeker spat, his attention now on the rest of us. "The Templars failed _no one_ when they left the Chantry to purge the mages!" My spine reared up with a vicious shudder and I glared at Solas' hand and then up at him. Gently, with all the patience of a saint, Solas brought a hand up and placed his index finger over his lips to silence me behind Cassandra's back. The muscles under my skin trembled with ice, but I obeyed. Angrily, but I still obeyed.

 _He's right. This is not my place. Of all the times to find my bravado, fucking hell._

"You are the ones who have failed." Lord Seeker Lucius condemned. " _You_ who'd leash our righteous swords with doubt and fear!" The Templars around him shuffled on their heels, their gazes bouncing between Cassandra and the Lord Seeker. There was doubt, the Seeker was not wrong about that, though it seemed he failed to notice where the doubt spread. "If you came to appeal to the Chantry, you are too late. The only destiny that demands respect is _mine_." Cassandra was frozen in front of me and that brought a heated snarl to my lips.

"What we _need_ ," I swallowed back my swear words as I surged forward in front of her, "is an alliance to seal this Breach - or have you forgotten that it won't stop at the Temple?" The Templars around the Lord Seeker hesitated. They glanced to each other, their gazes searching for reassurances between their brothers-in-arms. I prayed one would break, would cave to the plea. I just needed _one_ to break the unification. Mother Giselle had never been more right in giving me such advice.

The Seeker gassed me with a wicked grin. "Oh, the _Breach_ is indeed a threat, but you certainly have no power to do anything about it."

"But Lord Seeker," a new voice entered the fray and my heart clenched; _I just need one of you_. The new Templar spared me a small look before he turned back to his leader. "What if she was sent by the Maker? What if -" He was young, too, about my age if not a year or so older. Darkened skin like I hadn't yet seen before at Haven, with blazing eyes and a proud line along his shoulders. Doubt touched his mouth and wrinkled his eyes, but he faced his leader fully.

He was promptly smacked down by the Templar who had punched the Mother, "You are called to a higher purpose. Do not question." This other Templar set himself about to herd the troupe that had followed their leader, sectioning them off from the crowd and marching them away.

" _I_ will make the Templar Order a power that stand against the void." The Lord Seeker commanded darkly. " _We_ deserve recognition, independence!" He turned back around to me, my lanky frame a reed compared to his armored tank of a torso and ego. My ribs expanded as I inhaled and puffed like a fish, resisting the mighty urge to bare my teeth at him. I wasn't an animal and I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how far he clawed under my skin, but I was inches from striking the first blow.

 _Inches._

"You have shown me nothing." The Lord Seeker's lips shook as he restrained a snap of his jaws. "And the Inquisition... less than nothing." He turned to the troupe that stood behind him, shifting like an uneasy and stormy sea. "Templars! Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection. We march!" The troupe was soon herded like frantic sheep, a few among their number stared back at Cassandra and me as if we would save them from their departure. I didn't have it in me to try, I was already exhausted from the unexpected upheaval of righteous emotion I felt for Cassandra.

Varric finally appeared from within the crowd, furthest away from us as I had assumed. He tipped his head to us and sighed, "Charming fellow, isn't it?"

"Has Lord Seeker Lucius gone mad?" Cassandra finally pulled up out of her stupor and stood beside us. She turned her eyes to me and I shrugged, _it's not like I know the man._

"How well do you know him, Cassandra?" I asked. Her astonishment had come from somewhere, with wide eyes and a furrowed mouth, I was hard-pressed to believe this was the regular attitude of the man. Cassandra bounced slightly on her heels as she pondered the question, her expression twisted up with confusion.

"Lord Seeker Lucius was an honest man." She replied, hinting at her own doubt. "He was never one for grandstanding or political power, this... this is very unlike him."

A heel of my palm rubbed into my eye. "Well, it doesn't look like the Templars are going to be any help with the Breach."

"I wouldn't write them off so quickly." Cassandra tempered my response. Her eyes still held some hope for the Order. She shook her head, "There must be some in the Order who see what he's become." My gaze followed back to where the Templars had marched off. The one among them that had broken rank to question the Lord Seeker, with emerald gaze and concentrated brow, but we hadn't caught his name. I sighed, _I'll have to get Leliana to look into it. If one broke, I have a footing. God damn it._

"I suppose so." I relented with a soft glance at Cassandra. "But for now, they're as unreachable as the Breach." Solas nodded in agreement, his hands ever behind his back and Varric took a moment to scratch at the back of his head. This plan was falling apart like a demolished Lego house under someone's boot. With a roll of my shoulders, I set my feet to leave and head back to Haven to inform The Hydra of the crumbling plan.

"Excuse me," the accent caught me more than the pardon and all four of us turned to look behind us. A masked woman (I assumed, simply because of the dress, but you never knew with Val Royeaux) stood at the center of her little shaded shop and waved at us once she had our attention. I gave Cassandra a questioning glance, but she shrugged and we both made our way back toward the decorated lean-to. The woman was ornately dressed in a multitude of colors and glittering jewels. She was like a wind chime and with every turn, she sparkled and clinked.

"Can we help you?" I asked politely. The situation around us was unclear. With the Chantry Mother still recovering from her blow to the head and the crowd still in pockets of dissent, it was extremely difficult to tell who was an enemy and who was not. The woman bowed to us, as best she could in all of her skirts.

"Hello, yes." The woman seemed to smile under her mask. "I am Lady Belle, owner of this little shop. I do beg your pardon, as I did not mean to eavesdrop, but... is it true, are you with the Inquisition? The Herald of Andraste?"

My shoulders went stiff, but I bowed my head as I had no skirts to curtsy with, "I am. How can I be of service to you, Lady Belle?"

"Charmed," she laughed, "but I am disturbed, Herald, and the apparent disregard our mages and Templars have for the situation at hand." It was not a curious conversation topic, as the Breach affected everyone, but I was startled by the straightforward point she presented me. This was what Cassandra and The Hydra had talked about, that people would look to me for leadership in the coming storm. Guilt welled up in my belly, because I knew these poor people were being led by a blind captain.

"We share the same concerns, Lady Belle." I answered as I hastily puzzled together what else to say. "Unfortunately, with how the Inquisition stands right now, our power cannot be diverted into pacifying tempers. People need us to help sustain them." The lady under her shades considered me. Panic rose up in my throat as I began to second-guess my response. I wasn't cut out for this, I didn't know what words to say to sway people into helping us. Cassandra made no move next to me to patch up my poor attempt at democracy.

"Perhaps I could be of some assistance?" Lady Belle replied carefully. "I would not be able to do much more than assist with trade of food and supplies, but if the Inquisition is in need of it, I offer my services." My skin tingled at her words, startled by her acceptance of my half-assed play of diplomat. I blundered about in my mind for a reply and weakly turned to my viper at my left.

"Cassandra?" I hiccuped. My viper gave me a bemused smile and chuckled.

"I believe she was asking _you_ , Herald." Cassandra prompted. It took everything in me to keep the whine deep in my throat. My gaze flickered back to Lady Belle and my feet shuffled before I bowed my head again, swallowing against the bundle of nerves at the base of my tongue.

"We would be honored to have you in our fold, Lady Belle." I murmured as I raised my head. The woman smiled brightly at me.

"Wonderful," she cheered, "I will see to making my way toward Haven." With a stiff swallow, I nodded my head and we hastily made our way through the market again. I shuddered under the three pairs of eyes that bore into my back and I gave them a swift glare over my shoulders.

"Do not start with me, assholes -" there was a short whistle that shot past the front of my body. Varric was the first to starch up under his armor, his gaze swiftly finding the arrow and its path before the rest of us could. My gaze followed his and finally spotted the arrow that was embedded in the cobblestone work of the market's pathway.

"What's that?" Cassandra startled about as well as a horse, nickering. "An arrow with a message?"

I snorted and walked over to it, "Your skills at observation are astounding, Cassandra." The tease was enough to loosen my group. A scowl promptly plastered itself onto Cassandra's features, Solas dipped his chin down to hide his smile and Varric barked with a hearty laugh. With a gentle tug the arrow came loose and I unfurled the paper that was wrapped around it. I frowned. It was strange, because I could understand most of their words, as we had a shared language, or an alphabet in some ways, but certain words were still lost to me.

Solas was already beside me as I turned to hand him the note. He read it over briefly, his eyes scanning the parchment more than a few times. I peered over his shoulder. The letter was short and it had large, flowing script, with manic doodles all around the edges. Solas leaned toward me, turning his hand so that I could read it again, despite my first poor attempt.

"It says; _People say you're special. I want to help, and can bring everyone._ " He huffed, the parchment crinkling in his hand. " _There's a baddie in Val Royeaux -_ stop giggling, it's the wording of the letter. Hush," he glanced at me, annoyed briefly, but mainly amused _._ " _I hear he wants to hurt you. Have a search for the red things in the market, the docks, and 'round the cafe, and maybe you'll meet him first. Bring swords._ "

"That is a very poor attempt at an ambush." Varric popped up from under the letter. "Let me see that." He took the letter from Solas; my eyes had already starting looking around to spot anything red and obnoxious, but I didn't know this market well enough. "Huh," Varric glanced up and around as well, "The market, the docks, and the cafe..."

"Do you know where we can find these things?" I asked, wide eyed.

"Do we have time for it, is more my question." Cassandra grumbled.

I gave her a shrug, "I know we're a bit pressed for time, but someone's actively attempting to contact us or kill us."

"Best to get them out of the way now. Traveling to Haven and back again _is_ time we don't have." Solas agreed behind me. Varric was already off on his trek to find the red things mentioned in the note and I trotted along behind him. He was fast for a dwarf. It took us a bit of a while to find all the bundles of red cloth with more clues and notes. All with the same script. At the very least, it had given me a chance to become a bit more acquainted with the bustling city. Memorization was key to survival. In the end, the clues were disturbing. They led us to believe that I had been followed and watched, and gave a location as to where to find the perpetrator.

"We'll hold off on that one for now." I murmured to my group. Solas pocketed the notes in his bag, our glorified secretary when we were out and about. "Last thing we want to do is have me look like some vigilante off arresting people for no good reason."

"Agreed." Solas answered with a sigh. "Perhaps later tonight we can take a detour. Less people and public eye to worry about." We all shared a nod and set that particular pot on the back burner to simmer. We jumped around a bit more, or rather, my group allowed me a bit of freedom as I dashed between the shops, eyeing up what I could and what would be worth some note for Lady Montilyet. I had no doubt in my mind she knew these shops well, but I wasn't entirely eager to go back to Haven, yet.

The little emotional outburst I had over defending Cassandra had set my nerves on fire. It was vastly different from getting my point across with a fist, but my limbs had trembled and my heart raced up to my sinuses from the push to step forward and protect my companion. She was by no means weak or feeble, alas she'd strike me dead if I said such a thing to her, but I think I was starting to understand it. Leading was less about empowering myself and more about supporting others.

Just maybe, I _could_ do this.

We found the Mother again, supported and protected by a circle of other Mothers and Sisters of the Chantry. She held her head and side, her headdress still gone from her skull and she leveled a heated look as we approached, most of her ire focused on the face of my viper.

"This victory must please you greatly, Seeker." The Mother growled lowly, pain laced in her words.

"We came only to speak with the Mothers." Cassandra rebuffed, hand on her pommel. "This is not _our_ doing, but yours."

"And you had no part in forcing our hand?" The Mother returned darkly. Her gaze flashed to me. "Do not delude yourself." She took a shuddering breath and the clerics around her rustled with worry, as they could hear the rattling in her lungs as well as I did. "Now we have been shown up by our own Templars, in front of everyone. My fellow clerics are scattered to the winds, along with their convictions." My gaze found Cassandra, but my viper only shook her head in reply. There was nothing we could do since this was exactly what we had planned from the start (not beating a Mother senseless, though, that was not a part of _our_ plan).

"Just tell me one thing," The Mother brought her eyes to me and I straightened. "Do you _truly_ believe you are the Maker's Chosen?" My mind pondered the question. _I_ didn't believe at all, and I had mentioned such to most of my companions and The Hydra, so that we were on clear terms from where I functioned. I searched her face and could see the strain of terror and chaos that hid behind her eyes. She was terrified, just as much as I, and she was looking for answers. My shoulders slumped as realization hit; she may not have been from another world, but _her_ world was falling apart at the seams, unraveling, and all the answers she thought she had from her scriptures were failing.

 _It's the Second Coming of Jesus Christ for you, isn't it?_ Revelations had hit this world and their god, if this disaster was anything to go by, had damned them to their fates.

"I couldn't tell you." I answered honestly. Cassandra shuddered next to me, her gaze sharp and telling. I ignored her. "All I know is that I _am_ capable of sealing this Breach, and I need all the help I can get to do it. Why must we fight each other like this when there's a greater threat than the writings of a religion?"

The Mother chuckled weakly. "It is all we have, child. When the world was built on the Maker and he abandons us, what more do we have aside from nothing?" She shook and another Sister step forward and pressed a moist cloth to the Mother's forehead. The Mother sighed and closed her eyes, "... in the end, I am left to question all that I've been taught. I suppose it is all out of our hands now. We'll see what the Maker has planned for us in the days to come."

I reeled angrily, bile bubbling in my throat. "Help us! Why is the first response you have to this danger sitting back and let it eat you up?"

"Herald." Cassandra interrupted gently. My teeth came down on the inside of my cheek and I waved it off. I _knew_ better than to argue with the religious. With a hefty sigh I turned on my heel and marched toward the exit. Forget the Red Jenny. Forget the mages and the Templars. Whatever bravado I had was now washed away with my anger. My companions caught up with my hasty retreat, but Cassandra came up to my side and pointed to someone off to the side, a man in robes who stared directly at me.

I growled, but marched over to him instead. "You're staring. How may I help you?" I was quick to tact on the polite reply when I could hear Cassandra sigh behind me in disgust. My temper was starting to match hers and get the best of me. _Calm your fucking attitude, Jaime._ The man in robes turned his head to me, eyes a bit vacant and open.

"You are the Herald of Andraste, are you not? I have an invitation for you." He held out a envelope for me, dressed in glitter and gold flecks, with a dark wax seal. I looked up to question the robed man, but he was already walking away. Annoyed, I pulled out a small knife that I had stashed in my belt (can't swing a maul in close quarters, as the Commander said) and slit the wax from the parchment and opened it. I snorted and immediately handed the invitation to Solas when the script was even flasher than the first one. No way in hell I could read that.

"Well, it is indeed an invitation." Solas took a moment to read the rest. "Hmm. It's from the First Enchanter of Montsimmard, Enchanter to the Imperial Court, Lady Vivienne De Fer, asking you to attend her salon at the Chateau of Duke Bastien de Ghislain."

I turned to Cassandra with a pistol whip look. She jumped at the attention.

"Never again tell me my name is strange." I pointed at her. Varric blinked rapidly for a few seconds, attempting to catch up with the conversation before he burst into laughter. He wasn't there for the original conversation on how _Jaime Wyatt_ was a strange and foreign name, but listening to Solas read the letter to me, I knew now it was utter bullshit. Solas hid a smirk as he pocketed that parchment note as well; Cassandra's face lit up like an electric stove left on high.

"And gods almighty," I groused with a look to Solas' knapsack. "The fuck was that, someone's career list?"

Solas chuckled. "Well... yes. The nobility and high court do enjoy spending the ink on their accomplishments."

"What do I do? Reply?" I answered briskly, once more taking the walk up toward the exit bridge. "Hail First Enchanter Lady Vivienne-something, I shall attend your whatever. Sincerely, A Shithead."

Varric had a sudden case of whooping cough behind us, wheezing that _no, bad idea_ , but like I gave two polite shits about what this Enchanter could think of me. With a sigh, I relaxed, the group (and myself) in a briefly better mood than before. It wasn't meant to cushion us for long, as upon approach of the gates we were caught from behind by another robed figure, a woman.

"If I may have a moment of your time?" A woman called behind us. My eyes closed and I could feel my eyeballs burn under my eyelids as I turned my head up toward the sky, asking for peace. I looked over our collective shoulders and spotted an elven woman. She was dressed in full, furred robes, with worn boots and short cropped hair. I felt the stirrings of shame tickle up my back when a thought of _elves wear shoes?_ popped into my head. Of course they wore shoes, not everyone was like Solas.

"Grand Enchanter Fiona?" Cassandra murmured with surprise.

"Leader of the mage rebellion," Solas followed up, shifting closer. "Is it not dangerous for you to be here?"

"I heard of this gathering, and I wanted to see the fabled Herald of Andraste with my own eyes." The Grand Enchanter stepped toward us from the shadows of the gate, her gaze raking over me for a full inspection. "If it's help with the Breach you seek, perhaps my people are the wiser option."

My eyebrows shot to my hairline. "The mages weren't willing to talk to us before, according to our ambassador. Why now?"

"Because _now_ I've seen what you are." She bowed her head lightly with half a smile on her lips. "And I've seen the Chantry for what it is. Consider this an invitation to Redcliff: Come meet with the mages. An alliance could help us both, after all." I could understand her smile now, she was calculating. The Templars had turned me away, spurned for their own independence and standing, and it left me in a position of a beggar.

 _Now I have nothing left to choose but you, huh?_ I wasn't going to readily fall into that trap. As far as I was currently concerned, either side was a menace. I had a very nagging fear that this could very well turn out like a reenactment of the Holocaust if I wasn't careful. The last thing anyone wanted in this world was another Hilter. Or their first one, I should say.

She bowed her head to me again. "I hope to see you there. _Au revoir,_ my Lady Herald." I watched her go in surprise. _That was French? That sound like French._ Not that I could ask any of my companions, as I was the only one that knew what French was, or where it had come from; it was just another nail in the coffin in making me think this place wasn't so dissimilar to my world.

"Come on," I tugged my companions along behind me, "Let's deal with the follower first and then we can head back to Haven."

\- 0 -

Whoever the hell this stalker was, they were loaded. We had taken Solas' advice and waited until the fall of twilight before heading out toward the secluded courtyard that my stalker had taken residence in. It was alarming how tight the space was once you left Val Royeaux and wandered into the further reaches of the city.

That's where the bodyguards had found us. There was a handful of them, regular swordsmen and an archer or two. Cassandra was quick to leap into the fray after the first arrow was shot our way and clanged off her shield. I readied my maul in my hands and took comfort in its weight as I dashed in after my companions.

Varric and Solas made quick work of the guards on the ledge of the storage floor we were herded into, and I followed Cassandra as the viper struck hard between two swordsmen. I came around behind her and swung for the legs of one of the guards, listening to him squawk as his ass hit the ground. My gaze turned away to the other guard as Cassandra brought her blade down swiftly and dispatched the fallen foe.

I still wasn't comfortable watching death happen. It was easier for me to ignore it and lay blame away on others if _I_ never dealt the killing blow. My throat constricted as my maul came up and smacked on the blade in front of me, it wobbled in the guard's hands and twanged off the floor as he spun to meet me again. The maul hissed through the air as I brought it down and around my ankles to keep the sword from biting into my chest.

He was a bit stronger than I was accustomed to, and I had no doubt in my mind that the soldiers back at Haven pulled their swings when sparring with the Herald. Regardless, the swordsman bounced off my maul and stumbled back toward Solas, the latter whom brought his hand up smoothly and sent a shock of rippling ice through the guard's back.

"Holy shit, dude." I breathed hard, exertion burned my lungs. "Talk about a cold shoulder."

Varric groaned from behind me. "That was awful, sweetheart, really?"

I grinned at him maniacally. Adrenaline was one hell of a drug. We spritzed off toward the other section of the storage area, dodging around boxes and stacked crates before getting to the double doors. I pushed through only to be yanked back by Solas' quick hand as a spitting fireball slammed just past my face and into the metal door. I pouted, peeved at the sucker punch. A second one came just as quickly, with Cassandra's stone grip dragging both Solas and myself down for a hard duck.

"Hey!" I came up with a sputter, annoyed, maul scraping against the ground.

"Herald of Andraste!" The masked man approached us with his nose in the air, hands daintily on his hips. "How much did you expend to discover me? It must have weakened the Inquisition _immeasurably_."

"I didn't spend a single fucking cent, my guy." I said, amazed. This guy was beyond the cloud line and into space. He bristled under his marshmallow shoulder pads and faced me only with his profile.

"You don't fool me!" He snapped with a shrill. "I'm too _important_ for this to be an accident! My efforts will survive in victories against you elsewhere!" What the ever loving hell? I knew egos around Val Royeaux were top tier at worst, but this took the last slice of cake. I blinked and turned to my companions for answers.

I received wide eyed stares.

A body dropped dead behind my attacker and all our attentions snapped to the slumped guard, another elf appeared behind him, bow and arrow at the ready. Bianca clicked behind me and whirled her gears, ready for a shot, but the elf was focused on the masked man in front of us.

"Just say 'what'!" She demanded.

"What is -" an arrow split through his open mouth, choking him. My heart stuttered in my chest as the body dropped with a thick, wet thud and rolled as his legs bent awkwardly under his weight. A swallow forced its way down my throat and Cassandra stood before me with a shield, stone faced and ready.

The archer giggled, "Squishy one, but you heard me, right? Just say what! Rich tits always try for more than they deserve."

 _What._

"Blah, blah, blah! Obey me! Arrow in my face!" She continued, bouncing toward the fallen nobleman and yanking the arrow from his throat. I choked a bit at the noise, my hand on Cassandra's arm to steady myself. "You followed the clues well enough. Glad to see you're - oh. You're normal! That's good!"

"Someone translate." I murmured to everyone around me, but my eyes flashed to Solas.

"Do not think for one second that I could." Solas sassed, his ears twitched indignantly. My eyes rolled and I shuffled around Cassandra, easing my viper away with a gentle push. My head ducked a bit as I walked up to the archer, my gaze carefully on her hands that held the bow. She had been _fast._

"I mean, it's all good, innit?" The woman grinned wide at me. "The important thing is; you glow? You're the Herald thing?"

"Well, I s-suppose the Herald Thing is a bit better than Andraste's." I muttered. It set the archer off into a giggle and, impossibly, her grin set wider on her mouth. My throat cleared to catch her attention, as sporadic as it seemed, "Who are you and what's this about?"

"No idea," the girl rushed, "I don't know this idiot from manners. My people just said the Inquisition should look at him."

Confusion incoming. "Your people? Like elves?"

"No!" She snorted. "People people! Name's Sera, this is cover, get around it."

"Wait, what?" I felt like I was literally trying to catch smoke within my fingers. Nothing that came out of her mouth made sense. The woman groaned and shook her head, taking my shoulder and shoving me behind a stack of crates. Varric and Cassandra hiccupped in offense, stepping toward us.

"Hey! It's for the reinforcements." She snapped with a narrowed eyed glare at my companions. "Don't worry, someone tipped me their equipment shed."

"What the fuck, honestly." I muttered darkly, peeking up from behind the stack of crates.

"They've got no breeches!" She sang as the first arrow flew from her bow. It struck a guard in the throat as they were coming down the stairs nearby. Instinctively my head ducked and I found Cassandra materialized at my front, shield and sword brandished. I stood from cover and popped around her open flank with my maul, lying it out on the ground flat and sweeping it as another guard ran toward her.

With his ankle gone out from under him, he hit the crates as Cassandra and I dodged to one side. Spun on a heel, Cassandra snarled as he blade came down and it was only then that we noticed the guard had no pants upon his person.

I growled, "Why didn't you take their weapons!"

"Because no breeches!" The girl laughed somewhere above my head. _That makes no fucking sense, oh my shit._ Despite the annoyance I felt growing for her, she was a devastating shot and was faster than Varric when it came to pinning someone down. I took mighty offense to it and justified that Bianca had a better draw and power behind her than the girl's arms could match. There was only a few of them and they were quickly dealt with by my group. I barely had to swing my maul.

My feet turned and I rounded on the giggling girl.

"Friends really came through with that tip!" She snickered. "No breeches!" She faced me, sweaty and excited, but it disappeared in a blink once I was within arm's reach of her. My lungs paused, startled by the sudden shift in her expression. "So. Herald of Andraste. You're a strange one. I'd like to join."

My world view of her took a tilt. Within seconds she had changed from chaotic terror to a glacier's tip, sharp and fractional to the rest of its body behind frigid waters. _Seriously. Who the fuck._ Cassandra did not have enough soap in the world for me. The girl met me with a solid face, eyes wide and searching.

"... how about we start with introductions first." I ventured carefully. "With names and such."

"One name," she answered promptly. "Well, two. See - it's like this. My friends put those red things for you to find. Friends of Red Jenny. That's me. Or well, I'm one. So is a fence in Montfort, some woman in Kirkwall. There were three in Starkhaven. Brothers or something."

My mind reeled at the information. _She's part of a guild? Across Thedas?_ From the sounds of it, either they weren't actually very well connected or she was throwing me off to make sure she didn't endanger anyone else. Fuck, I couldn't tell with this girl. Sincerity and being daft seemed to go hand-in-hand with her. The words she gave me came out like a whirlwind of bluster and smoke.

"It's just a name, yeah?" Sera was nervous and twitched under my gaze. "It lets little people, _friends_ , be part of something while they stick it to nobles they hate."

 _Ah, it's a gang. Okay._ I was still confused as all hell, but we were getting somewhere, at the very least.

"So here, in your face, I'm Sera." She sniffed and shuffled on her heels a bit. " _The Friends of Red Jenny_ are sort of out there. I used them to help you. Plus arrows." My mind continued weak attempts to keep up with her. I understood it, in a way. A gang of some sort that took their fights to the nobles. A civil movement, perhaps?

"So if I understand it, you're like spies?" I tried weakly.

Sera rolled her eyes. "So here's how it is. You _important_ people are up here," her hands flew above her head and I leaned back on my heels to be out of reach, "- shoving your cods around. _Blah, blah, I'll crush you. I'll crush you!_ " She wiggled her hands and arms around as if she was in a spat (or seizure, it was anyone's guess at this point) and puffed her cheeks at me.

Patiently, I waited. This had a point, and to quote Marlin, _it's like she's trying to speak to me. I know it._

She made kissing noises and moved on swiftly with a cleared throat, "Then - you've got cloaks and spy-kings. Like this tit. Or was he one of the little knives?" She pondered with a frowned. "All serious with his... little knife." She snorted, chuckling. "All those secrets and what gave him up? Some houseboy who don't know shit, but knows a bad person when he sees one."

 _They're urchins._ I had a quick, unsettling flash back to my apartment, reading a tome of Sherlock Holmes. They weren't spies or fighters or a civil movement at all. They were like Holmes' urchins that flooded the streets and alleyways that no one noticed as they came and went, their little ears and eyes picking up information that others missed.

"So no, I'm not knifey shivdark, all hidden." She snapped, bringing me back to attention. "But if you don't listen down here too, you risk your breeches."

I was starting to understand. In spurts.

"Like those guards? I stole their -" She was losing her nerve about as quickly as I was. "Look, do you need people or not? I want to get everything back to normal. Like you."

The stares of my companions bore down my neck and made me sweat. This woman was beyond anyone's control, madness wrapped in chaos and sharp edges. Egg shells dipped in poison, where the slightest thing could potentially set her off (because you just didn't fucking know) and she could break, but she'd poison the cut she made just to spite you.

Oh, Lord.

"Alright," I choked, alarmed at my reply. "You can come aboard. Report to Haven and look for Leliana. She'll set you up."

"Yes!" She cheered, jumping on her heels. "Get in good before you're to big to like. That'll keep your breeches where they should be! I'll see you around, Herald - _this_ , is gonna be grand!" My back went painfully tight as she bounced off into the shadows of the compound, her laughter following her. My knees knocked together for a second when I turned around and saw the incredulous looks of my companions.

"Hey, look." I defended immediately, "I would rather have her chaos where I can _see it_ , then for it to come sailing out of nowhere and kill me."

"Point," Varric and Solas agreed. Cassandra snorted and shook her head. I slumped and fastened my maul to my back and drug my feet under me as I worked my way back out of the death tomb.

"Can we go home now?" I muttered with a hard rub to my eyes.

"Yes, let's." Cassandra sighed. "Before you decide to pick up any more strays."

" _You_ decided to keep me, Cassandra."

"Herald."

"Haven it is."

* * *

 **Note:** _This one came out a bit longer than the others, simply because of travel time (no teleportation like in game) and Sera couldn't be introduced in the other chapter as she would have made it too stressful for Jaime in addition to meeting The Iron Bull._

 _Either way, I hope you enjoyed!_


	7. ACT I: Don't Stop Me Now

**Running On Empty:** _Don't Stop Me Now_

 **Note:** _Thanks again to all the followers and the ones that leave reviews, you're appreciated!_

* * *

Our return to Haven was faster than when we left. The winter months had been in full force when I had arrived, and now as Val Royeaux fell behind us, the spring was starting to break across the landscape. Orlais was a paradise in most cases, and it was clearly visible when one crossed the border into Ferelden. The easy slopes and open fields gave way to muddy ground and snow covered treetops. As we approached Haven's mountain range, the wind grew icy once more and nipped at any patch of skin that was exposed.

The caravan that traveled with us had lessened, members who wanted no part of the Inquisition had stayed behind in Val Royeaux after the disastrous event that was the meeting with the Chantry and its Templars. The whole chaotic mess had left a bitter taste in everyone's mouth and we trudged on in silence most days. There had been a quiet gathering amongst the caravan at the turning of their new year, but the bottles of mead that had been passed around were few. Everyone was stretched to their bones and keeping the moral up was exhausting.

For me, anyway.

The realization that a third of a year (however long their years were) had disappeared had startled me. It was easy to ignore the change of the season when you were stuck in Haven most of the time, the snow capped mountains and gusty winds never allowed anyone to forget how easily it could blister a careless soul. Anywhere from three to five months had slipped past me, time I had lost and could never recover. I had been so concerned with my survival, with my sanity, that I failed to grasp the gravity of the situation I was placed in.

Nothing had changed. I was no better a position to help these people, this world, than I was when I first fell into their dominion. Now as we traveled back to Haven, every day pressed upon my shoulders like a snarling coal and burnt the skin. I lost everything and it was so painfully easy to ignore it when I could focus on other things. My family was gone, my home, my life, my friends. My pets, my hobbies. Everything, gone from one blink of the eye to the next. With no current mission or quest to focus on, my lungs were glued to the underside of my ribs and my stomach had dropped through my feet.

Every marching step forward to Haven reminded me of how terribly alone I was in this world.

It was an odd sense of grief that finally caught up with me. It made my bones itch from within and my limbs tremble from a sort of exhaustion I was unfamiliar with, an ache I couldn't pinpoint or soothe. In the silence of our march, I could remember the faint echoes of voices from my previous life and it drained me. I would never see them again, never hold my mother's hand or watch my father rock away in his recliner. Their faces would fade from memory and I had nothing to anchor those memories if they did.

I lost my first world, and I could do nothing to save this one. The mark on my hand was nothing more than a singular tool in a war that needed to be fought on all fronts. What I had thought would have been an easy solution, talking to the Chantry and making them see reason hadn't been anything more than a sham. _Nothing worth having ever comes easy, darling,_ I could hear my father say. The thought made the back of my eyes burn. The loneliness grew and spread through my soul like a plague.

"You've been very quiet as of late." Solas approached from my left, his voice drifting over my shoulder. "What troubles you?"

"I'm always quiet." I answered lamely. The caravan was just hours from Haven, we would reach it by evening, if the weather held steady for us. Cassandra led the front with the owner, keeping them on safe paths toward the settlement. Varric was just in front of us, weaving his tales for the younger members to feast on as we walked. Solas and I remained behind at an easy pace.

"Yes, but this is different." Solas came a little further up along my side, his arm nearly brushing mine. "It's deeper."

Confused, I looked up at him. "Deeper? How can a silence go deeper?"

"It's less a silence of thoughts and more of the soul." My spiritualist elf explained. "Something happened since we left Val Royeaux and your soul, your aura, has retreated."

"I'm just tired, Solas." I rebuffed. The last thing I wanted (or that he needed) was him turning into my impromptu therapist. I rubbed at my eyes for good show and peered up at him under my fist like a child. It was pitiful, but it was all I had to dissuade him. Not that it worked, as he was silent only for a few moments after and then picked it up again.

"You can tell me about it, Jaime." Solas pressed gently. "Normally I am not one to pry, but your situation is unique. I know how... debilitating it can be, suppressing such a thing." I could feel tears well up from the back of my eyes and I hated it. A muscle in my jaw jumped as my teeth were clenched together over my tongue.

"How?" My voice was low as I snapped at him. "How could you know?"

"I do understand what it feels like to lose your whole world in mere moments." Solas replied smoothly. "How the world tilts ever so slightly and nothing is as it once was, and the dramatic turn into a new world consumes every thought, every gesture." Solas paused and briefly, his gaze shifted sideways to me, assessing my face. His expression was one of perpetual perturbation, but it softened for a fraction of a moment. He breathed, "You are lonely."

Electricity shot up my spine, but I held my tongue still. I concentrated on the march of my feet forward, ever onward to Haven.

"Jaime." Solas attempted.

"I'm tired, Solas." It was all I had left to stem the flow of tears. They watered my words and shook my throat. I _was_ lonely. Desperately so. I had these people around me, Solas who did his best to play mediator, Cassandra who couldn't tell one end of her temper to another, and Varric who watched us all with faint, near-gleeful amusement. They had each other in their shared experiences, their shared world and creation, in their goals. I was here because of a stupid mark on my hand and bad timing between the fabric of reality. My hands curled to fists as I walked.

"I know you feel as if you are alone, Jaime." Solas persisted. He was right, this wasn't normal for him, and I wondered why he cared so much to put this amount of effort into prying me open. "And I will not lie to you - perhaps you are." It stung to hear him say it, the truth could never come gently. He stayed at my side and once more his arm brushed mine. "And yet you have many who wish only to help you."

"They can't." I choked. I could recall Leliana's words vividly. _The less that people know the truth, the easier it will be to assimilate you into this life. It is the best we can do, I'm sorry._ She was right. I couldn't go around telling people where I was from, truly, or how I came to be. It would discredit everything we worked for in the Inquisition. Everything that we were trying to achieve would be washed away.

"You can allow us the chance to try." Solas soothed again. "Even if there is only a handful of us, we can keep you from losing yourself." He paused and waited for my reply, but I gave him nothing. I continued to lumber forward, the weight of my self-pity hanging from my ears and dragging me down. He sighed, "I don't understand how you can be so willing to be kind to others, and yet save nothing for yourself."

"Other p-people are easy." My voice was starting to crack. I didn't want to talk about this anymore. If I had the energy, I would have run up to stand beside Cassandra and let her temperament terrorize anyone who bothered me. "I can m-make sure they have what they need, because th-they can _tell_ me."

"As can you." He pressed with a narrowed gaze at me. I avoided his stare. "You are the only one who knows how deep your cracks go, how far the pain dwells. We cannot pull you from the abyss that you create unless you reach out to us first."

My throat seized on me. My knees shook and turned into cooked pasta and bent from under me. The weight of my body crashed into the ground and sent tendrils of sparking pain up from my kneecaps into my torso. My hands came up to my face and smothered it, but I could already feel the tears flow and ice along my cheeks and chin. Solas dropped beside me in an instant and his hand rested between my shoulder blades, but for once, he was silent.

The tears came stronger as I could hear the pattering of footsteps come up to us. Cassandra and Varric surrounded me, the dwarf nearly sliding to my side in his hurry. Cassandra barked at the caravan around her, telling them to continue on and we would catch up to them afterward. I felt like an ass. Solas had been right, I cared too much to be truly bitter, but god damn it did I want to be. I shook as Solas' hand left my shoulders and was replaced by Varric's, who rubbed circles along my spine.

"What the hell happened, Chuckles?" Varric growled, shifting in the snow next to me.

My head shook, my wrists rubbing against my nose. "It's n-not his fault. He - he was t-trying to help."

"Help with what?" Cassandra demanded. My gaze came away from my hands and caught her alarmed look to Solas. "Is it the Mark?"

"N-no," I hiccupped. I fumbled at my belt, trying to find my handkerchief, but Varric was quicker and produced his own and wiped my hands with it before letting me take it up to my face. For as broken as I felt, I was not about to lose the last of my dignity because Varric decided to be paternal with me. The cloth was swiped over my face to catch the trails of tears and clear away the icy dust they had made in the cold.

"What happened, sweetheart?" Varric did his best to keep his expression neutral, but I could see the corners of his eyes breaking. He was worried, or perhaps scared, that I had suddenly just collapsed into the snow with a full flood of tears. Cassandra was a level better, her face stern; despite that, there was a line of stress that had stiffen her shoulders. They were worried and were trying to comfort me regardless.

 _God, I really am an ass._

My nose scrunched with a hard sniff. "I'm j-just... tired. I d-don't - this thing with the T-Templars and then the Chantry, and n-nothing is g-going right." Another hard sniff and I wiped at my nose again, looking up at Cassandra from my huddled form, my legs bent under me and my arms tossed into my lap. "I d-don't know what to do, and I'm s-scared wh-whatever I do... h-how is it enough?" A shudder ran through me and a broken sob came up through my throat and I ducked my head and shut my eyes tightly, embarrassed.

"Hey, sweetheart." Varric's hand ran along my spine briefly, his voice gentle. "... look, I won't shit with you, we're all a bit scared. This thing... no one's dealt with this before, but." His voice choked a bit and it made my face wince. I was going to break my companions at this rate. They needed me to be stable, to be solid, because I was the only one that could end this. My eyes opened and stared down at the hand in my lap, the Mark always a pulsing beat behind my heart.

"We're going to try, alright?" Varric breathed to strengthen his voice. "We're gonna see this through together, come hell or high water." He reached down and took my right hand from my lap, holding it with a shaky grip. More tears appeared and fell as we held hands. My lungs shuddered with a hard inhale. I couldn't do this to them. Their world was falling apart and I had already lost mine.

I froze.

 _I already lost mine._

I couldn't sink this ship with them on it. I couldn't doom them just because I was feeling sorry for myself and have the disaster wait until I grieved. I would have to continue doing what I had been doing before, pushing forward and keeping myself busy. These people didn't know my turmoil and I wouldn't add to their stress by telling them about my grief. They needed their Herald. They needed the only thing that could seal these rifts and pray it was enough.

"I'm sorry." I breathed out slowly and raised my head, unsure of how many moments had passed. Varric returned my weak smile with one of his own, relief over his face. Cassandra uncoiled from the spring she had set herself into and Solas bowed his head. My throat with cleared with a heavy cough and I raised a leg to stand. "Th-thanks, Varric."

"Of course, sweetheart." Varric let go as I stood and dusted off my knees. I gave Cassandra a firm nod and we hurried to catch up with the caravan. My thoughts weren't necessarily clear, but they at least had a path to follow, now.

I was their Herald.

I had to be.

\- 0 -

We approached Haven by evening, as we had predicted. Once within the safety of the settlement, we divided. Solas quickly disappeared into the crowd of people and most likely to his cabin. I would have to talk to him soon and soothe any ruffled feathers; guilt couldn't linger between us, not when he was the one that had to help me the most with this Mark and the Breach. Varric was gone with a wave, off to his tent to collect his missives and replies. Surface dwarf he might have been, there was took much at stake for him to fail in his responsibilities.

Cassandra and I left our weapons with Harritt for touch ups before making our way over to the training camp. The Commander was nowhere to be found and one brave new recruit stepped forward to tell us he had been in the Chantry all day. We bowed and marched our way up toward the Chantry. I leaned heavily against Cassandra's side and she made no move to butt me off. I was grateful. Once at the giant double doors, we parted and slipped inside, the warmth made me shiver.

The Hydra approached from the hall, Josephine the first to pounce. "It's good you've returned. We heard of your encounter."

"You heard?" Cassandra popped with confusion.

I nodded with a rub at my eye. "That one scout? You sent them back once we found out about the Templars."

"My agents in the city sent word ahead, of course." Leliana confirmed. The Commander came up beside her, weary and worn under his armor, but smiling. Leliana looked pristine as she always did and I glowered at her for it, feeling the stink of the month's travel on my skin. Lady Montilyet was, once again, the picture of perfection.

The Commander sighed and crossed his arms. "It's a shame the Templars have abandoned their senses as well as the Capital."

"We had to do something." I grumped, my arms dropped to my side. "And now we have an opportunity." I followed as The Hydra turned toward the War Room. Cassandra a pace behind me as Josephine came up to my side.

"Yes, and we have the opening we need to approach the Templars and the mages." She agreed with a quick glance over my form. I looked horrendous, I'm sure, as bathing while traveling was particularly difficult with no portable water containers big enough to hold enough water. Hell, I would have settled for a gas station sink if the opportunity had presented itself. I felt like a dust bunny compared to those around me.

"Do we?" Cassandra asked darkly behind us. "Lord Seeker Lucius is not the man I remember."

"True. He has taken the Order somewhere, but to do what?" Leliana asked over her shoulder. I had stumbled into Cassandra, exhaustion of the day starting to mount upon my shoulders and in between my knees. "My reports have been... very odd."

"We must look into it," Cullen murmured thoughtfully, "I'm certain not everyone in the Order will support the Lord Seeker."

"Or the Herald could simply go to meet the mages in Redcliffe, instead." Josephine offered. She spared a glance at my tired form and I snorted. The trip to talk to the Chantry Mothers at Val Royeaux was to be simple as well, and we all had seen how that had ended. _Simple_ was to be stripped from our vocabulary.

My sigh was heavy. "Well, before we do that, we need to actually _deal_ with Redcliffe." The Hydra turned to look at me, their pace toward the War Room paused. Cassandra came up to my shoulder, a concern frown over her face. I waved a hand, "Remember Corporal Vale? Yeah, they still need a fuck-ton of supplies and we don't have the people to manage that. Yet."

"If we gain enough influence with them -" Josephine started and I cut her off with a wave of my hand.

"No, no." I swallowed and tried to steel my nerves and follow my newest vow of being their Herald. "I can't wait for the Templars and the mages to settle for us. I'm not going to pander to their grievances when I have settlements and towns starving, for food and help."

The Commander smirked briefly. "What do you suggest, then?"

"I had to talked to Solas and Varric about it." I bowed my head apologetically to Cassandra, my eyes back to The Hydra. "Mercenaries aren't the _safest_ option, but they are the fastest. We can keep them on a tight leash and pay them well enough to go hunting and clearing out the settlements for us."

It was Leliana's turn to smirk, but I wasn't sure why. "Oh? That sounds... like a good idea. I'll see if we can have any mercenary companies nearby pick up a contract or two." I nodded my thanks and Josephine briefly tipped her head, probably taking a mental note to see to the acquisition of mercenary company.

"In any case," The Commander dragged us back, "I don't think the mage rebellion is more united. It could be ten times worse."

"We need to choose, and soon." I interjected and we took another pace toward the War Room. "Mages or Templars, just point me toward who is more willing. The mages sound like they're ready to go belly up."

"We cannot discredit the mages so soon." Josephine tempered.

Cullen sighed and rolled his neck. "I don't think we have the influence necessary to approach the Order safely."

"That is something you can do." Cassandra turned her gaze to me, briefly gentle and searching. It hardened behind her tight cheeks and strong jaw. "The Inquisition needs more agents across Thedas. We will work on bringing them together under our banner." My lungs expanded under my ribs and stretched my back as I nodded. That, at least, I could do. Start small and work up.

"In the meantime, we should consider other options." Josephine tipped her head and The Hydra was dismissed. Cassandra touched the back of my arm and I turned to follow her, but I spied Leliana approach me from behind. Fear lanced through my heart as I frantically wondered whether I had overstepped my boundaries when I suggested the mercenaries.

"There is one other matter." Leliana offered when she was closer. My spine snapped upright and whatever exhaustion I felt evaporated from my muscles to be replaced with the aforementioned fear.

"What can I help with, Leliana?" It took everything in me to keep my voice from cracking. Leliana was as self-sufficient as one could become, with her slue of agents and spies, she hardly needed me to do anything for her.

"Several months ago, the Grey Wardens of Ferelden vanished." She replied. I remembered a few lessons with Josephine concerning the Grey Wardens. Keepers against the Blight (which I had survived, I remembered) and guardians against the oncoming plague it brought. No one aside from a Warden knew the process for initiation, but they were a double edged swords. Having a group of Wardens around meant you could be safe, but it also meant that there was a Blight. Nothing could be without the other.

"I sent word to those in Orlais, but they have also disappeared." She continued. My attention was brought back to the forefront and I frowned. Two major groups of Wardens disappearing was not a good thing. Leliana caught my concern and nodded, "Ordinarily I wouldn't even consider the idea they're involved in all this, but the timing is... curious."

"Hella curious, yeah." I breathed, worried. "What do you need me to do?"

She smiled faintly at my wording. "The others have disregarded my suspicions, but I cannot ignore it. Two days ago, my agents in the Hinterlands heard news of a Grey Warden by the name of Blackwall." She bowed her head slightly, hands behind her back as Solas did often. "If you have the opportunity, please seek him out. Perhaps he can put my mind at ease."

My inhale was sharp and excited. "O-of course, Leliana. I'll see what I can do for you." She nodded with another silent smile and thanked me, taking her leave as the others hand. My hands trembled at my sides, warring briefly with my tired limbs. I could be _useful_ for once, this was something an agent couldn't do because if the Warden was like the rest, avoidant of any political attachments, than you needed the spearhead to convince them, and _I_ was that weapon.

Near giddy, I made my way down the hallway to the exit of the Chantry. I would have to collect Varric and Cassandra to go with me. Varric for his suave diplomatic nature and Cassandra for the sheer brute energy she put out that was normally a reassurance to other warriors (since I lacked the same territorial aura that Cassandra bled). I would still have to talk to Solas and see where we stood before I dragged him back out again.

"Excuse me." The voice caught me off guard, it was polite and even, unlike the sometimes frantic calls I got from some of the soldiers. My feet had marched me out the door and almost past the soldier, but I stopped on a heel and waited as they drew closer. They were armored from head to foot in a style unlike the Inquisition. My mind went on alert, desperately trying to place if I had seen such a style before.

"Can I help you, soldier?" I inquired, offering them a smile. Short neat hair, a stern but easy face, and a back that was ram-rod straight. Not of the Inquisition now upon closer inspection, but they didn't look a part of Orlais or Ferelden. _Tevinter Imperium, maybe?_ God, I hoped not. I wasn't ready for that diplomatic fuck up.

"I've got a message for the Inquisition, but I'm having a hard time getting anyone to talk to me." They answered, tone level and concise. I frowned with a mental note to remind the officers in charge that lending an ear was more helpful than not.

I bowed my head apologetically, "Sorry about that, it's been a bit hectic the last few days. I can take the message." They assessed me with a wary eye, a quick glance over my disheveled appearance. I didn't present the best front, for sure, but I knew what would help. I grinned and raised my left palm, the Mark flashing with a brief pulse. "Not going to get much better than the Herald herself, don't you think?"

Their eyes grew wide, "The Herald of Andraste. Begging your pardon, ma'am, my name is Cremisius Aclassi, with the Bull's Chargers Mercenary Company. We mostly work out of Orlais and Nevarra." Once more my heart thundered in my chest at the mention of _mercenary company_ and I felt faint. This couldn't be happening, I had _just_ told them about it and this appeared at our doorstep?

 _Someone's fucking with me, what is this, a game?_

He cleared his throat and continued, "We got word of some Tevinter mercenaries gathering out on the Storm Coast. My company commander, Iron Bull, offers the information free of charge." Now I _knew_ someone was fucking with me. From what I understand (from movies in my old world and lessons from this one), mercenaries never did anything without payment, without compensation. A company willing to parley with information, for _free?_ Madness.

"If you'd like to see what the Bull's Chargers can do the for Inquisition, meet us there and watch us work." He grinned a bit at the end, pride clear in his work and his company. It charmed me; I had to make sure I didn't step off on the wrong foot and let them set the pace of our relationship. One steadying inhale a second later and I nodded.

"How useful would the Bull's Chargers be for us?" I turned the question back on him. My brother had been a sales agent, and I remember the lessons he gave me about avoiding sales pitches in the stores or on the street. Never confirm anything, or show interest, and make them tell you the fine details.

"We're loyal, we're tough, and we don't break contracts." He answered firmly, arms crossed. "Ask around Val Royeaux, we've got references." Damn, that was fast. He didn't even have to stop and think about it. The question had either been posed to him a thousand times or he believed in the company he worked for, whole-heartedly.

"And your commander?" I returned pleasantly. The name _Iron Bull_ was one hell of a moniker for a commander. It brought up all sort of imagery that hadn't flashed through my mind since the fourth grade when I was still terrified of monsters under my bed. Aclassi paused, briefly confused, and nodded.

"Iron Bull? He's one of those Qunari. The big guys with the horns?" Aclassi replied so casually that I was sure if he hadn't, I would not have been able to keep the pleasant, polite smile on my face. _Horns?_ Who on this goddamn planet talked about someone that sprouted horns from their heads like it was a natural fucking thing? _How the fuck did we skim over that in my lessons?_ Leliana and Josephine were going to get an earful, because if there were sentient creatures _with horns like Hellboy_ coming out of their head, I needed to be ready for that.

I was not fucking ready for that.

 _Fuck._

Aclassi continued, unaware of my internal hemorrhaging. "He leads from the front, he pays well, and he's a lot smarter than the last bastard I worked for. Best of all, he's professional. We accept contracts with whoever makes the first real offer." Aclassi gave me a bit of a roguish grin, "You're the first time he's gone out of his way to pick a side."

 _Breathe_ , I chanted amongst my chaotic thoughts, _just breathe._

 _Horns, my dude. You don't talk about horns like they're nothing._

My throat cleared its constriction, "Why did your commander send us this information?"

"Iron Bull wants to work for the Inquisition. He thinks you're doing good work." Aclassi crossed his arms again, all seriousness in his armor and straight face. My breathing was controlled, paced to counteract the erratic beating of my heart. I don't know if it was fear or anxiety, or just a panic attack all together but holy hot shit, my heart was going to give out on me.

"We'll consider your offer." My words were steady only because I held my breath as I said them.

Aclassi gave me a firm nod. "We're the best you'll find. Come to the Storm Coast, and you can see us in action." With that, the young man saluted me with his fist across his chest and bowed before taking his leave. I waved him off, waiting until he was well out of earshot and not likely to turn around before I turned on my heel and _raced_ back inside.

"Josephine!" I had burst through her door with all the grace of a three legged gazelle and startled my poor ambassador to dropping her work. Leliana stood beside her, rigid in surprise at my outburst or the fact that I had, for once, used Lady Montilyet's first name. I pointed a twitching finger at Leliana, "You! You got a lot of explaining to do." I was out of breath and doubled over as the door closed behind me, Minaeve carefully dodging out before the conversation continued.

"I do?" Leliana was far too amused by my state. "What have I not explained properly, Herald?"

"What the _fuck_ are Qunari?" I demanded breathlessly. It would have been more forceful, but I was already exhausted from our trek back to Haven from Val Royeaux, the emotional upheaval I had just before our arrival, and then the cardiac arrest I just suffered from the lackadaisical sentence of _big guys with the horns_. End quote.

Leliana and Josephine's eyes went wide and they shared a look, Josephine more alarmed than the former. "Qunari? Have you - did you see any? I wasn't aware of any Tal Vashoth in the area." Leliana shook her head as Josephine posed the question to her, I was too busy taking a seat on the nearby bench.

"Whoa, whoa, hold up." I coughed, waving a hand. "A _what?_ One - one fucking thing at a time. Let's start with the _Qunari_ , and then we move on to any subcategories therein, because I'm already fucking confused."

Leliana chuckled. "Indeed, your expletives are up ten-fold."

"Shush, you." I wheezed. My throat forced a harsh exhale and I cleared it before trying again. "What are Qunari?"

"Well," Josephine started, but stopped as Leliana raised a hand, a look of curiosity flashed across her mouth and twitched her eyes.

"Where did you hear that word?" Leliana asked carefully, leaning against Josephine's desk.

"There was a soldier, Cremisius? Cremisius Aclassi, who was at our doorstep wanting to talk to someone." One final cough and I cleared my throat enough to not sound like I was a ten-thousand year smoker. "He said he was part of a mercenary company called Bull's Chargers. He offered information about some Tevinter mercenaries out at the Storm Coast and -"

"He told you about their commander." Leliana finished for me. I blinked, blindsided. I could understand if she made a leap from Iron Bull's name to the man in question being a Qunari, but I hadn't given her anything of the sort. I narrowed my eyes at her and she sighed, arms pulled back and hands resting behind her.

"Qunari," She started with a light, educational tone to her voice, "is actually a word that translates into People of the Qun. Thus, _Qunari_ is equivalent to _Andrastian._ See?" She wanted for my brief nod and continued. "It's used to describe the people who follow the Qun and generally originate from the islands of Par Vollen and Seheron. We didn't bring it up in your education because the likelihood of you meeting one was incredibly slim."

"Bit wrong on that one, I would say." I answered with a huff.

She nodded. "Perhaps. As for the secondary term you heard, _Tal Vashoth_ , it's a name given to anyone who first followed the Qun and then abandoned it. Tal Vashoth are, mostly, killed on sight by their brethren as they're seen as unruly and chaotic."

Alright, so I could piece that together. "Okay. So when Aclassi says that Iron Bull is a Qunari...?"

"That might not actually be the same thing." Josephine regained her wits and snatched my question up readily. "Many people outside of Par Vollen and Seheron refer to the white-haired, metallic-skinned people of those places as Qunari, without actually knowing if they follow the Qun or not."

"Well, that's fucking confusing. Is it insulting to call them Qunari, then? If you don't know?" I asked, recalling my old world were calling someone by a religion when they weren't one was asking for a punch to the face. This was turning into a field of landmines that I wasn't sure I could tread.

Josephine shook her head. "No, as many of them who find themselves within our borders are Tal Vashoth, and have since left the Qun. They do not expect outsiders to know the difference and accept the term regardless." I shuddered, a trickle of terror wandered up my spine.

My brain caught up. "Wait, you said white-haired, _metallic-skinned?_ With _horns?_ "

"Yes," Josephine replied, just as confused. She caught on pretty quick. "Ah, of course. D-different world. Well. They're... about the height of just a stone below this ceiling most times, big, muscular, and with horns that come out of their heads. Males and females alike, though the females are typically more slender in appearance."

"Oh my god," I breathed, my head falling into my hands. "Guys. Guys, c'mon, how did you not think that was important to know? What if I met one? What if I saw one out in nowheres-ville and inserted both my feet into my mouth before knowing any better?"

"Well," Leliana chuckled again, "If that had happened, Cassandra or Solas would have dealt with it, knowing your situation."

"That is _not_ at all reassuring, Spymaster." I snapped, but a hint of amusement colored my tone. Their nonchalance with the whole thing was having a calming affect on my internal terror. My eyes flickered to Leliana. "How did you know about the commander bit?"

Leliana hesitated with a glance at Josephine before turning back to me. "The Iron Bull, as he prefers to be called, had sent a missive earlier this month while you were away to Val Royeaux, asking to have the Herald and her compatriots come and view their work." She bowed her head with a bit of an apologetic air, though the twitch of her mouth told me she was very far from sorry.

"You didn't answer, if the soldier showed up." I figured.

"No, I did." Leliana replied easily. "I had replied that, when the Herald was available and he had neutral place to meet, we would be happy to negotiate. I suppose they finally had their opportunity appear and are inviting us along for the show." That explained her smirk during my little hiccupped conversation asking for the mercenaries. She had an option already lined up.

"Where you going to tell me about it, at all?" I asked, mildly peeved that it had taken my heart dropping through my chest before I knew anything about it.

"... honestly?" Leliana ventured. "No. The Iron Bull had asked in another missive that you not be told about our correspondence because he wished to assess how you took the information he was going to give you."

"What information? More than the Tevinter mercenaries?" I didn't like this. I knew my spymaster's job was to play the game of shadows and daggers (because I sure as hell Could Not) but the fact that I was now playing catch up unnerved me. The idea that Leliana was going to send me in blind to a deal she may have already accepted was definitively Not Okay. Mental note to speak to her, as well.

They didn't have to make it hard for me to be the Herald, damn it.

I also realized Leliana had not replied. I narrowed my eyes at her. "Leliana. I need to know. I may not be the sharpest knife in the kitchen, but you _promised_ I wasn't going to be treated like a simpleton, remember that?" When I first dropped into this world, questioned endlessly for a straight two or three days about my other life, it had been clear that though I may not know how to swing a maul, I at least _knew_ more than I could let on.

Planets and black holes for example. Cullen had promptly left at _that_ discussion.

"I do remember, Herald. And you're right, I apologize." She dipped her chin to me, eyes honest. "It is so very hard to remember now that you are not what we say you are." She chuckled and took a breath to give herself a moment to collect her thoughts. "Let's play this game, then, and see where it leads us."

My eyebrow ticked. "Oh?"

"The Iron Bull is what the Qunari would call a _Ben-Hassrath_ , or the secret police of their society." She glanced at me to be reassured I was following her lecture. "From what I can gather through the vague missives, he was most likely assigned to the lands of Orlais and Nevarra as a scout, though I could not guess to his true purpose."

"Do they all have titles like that? Or is that just military?" I asked, genuinely curious now that my anxiety levels were at a survivable notch of panic.

"All Qunari have titles. They do not have names." Leliana replied patiently. "The Qunari society do not waste resources unnecessarily; they're raised in groups, not by parents, evaluated for their innate talents, and assigned roles best suited from those assessments as they grow."

"Holy shit," I breathed. "How do you know all this? How did I miss this?"

Leliana hesitated. "I traveled with a Qunari once, by the title of Sten. He was a warrior caste, and when I could, I learned as much from him as possible." The reply was curt and I knew better than to touch it. Another brief inhale and she continued, composed. "As for The Iron Bull, I would deduce that he was re-assigned from his current mission, whatever it was, to the Inquisition. It is most likely the Qunari want to assess whether we can handle the Breach or if they need to prepare a full scale invasion to prevent the breaking of the world."

My eyes grew wide and my voice tight. " _What?_ "

"Indeed," Leliana intoned. "I don't believe they would do any better, but it does leave the thought open that, if they did invade, we would be captured and killed, if we resisted, or put to use if we did not. _You_ ," she narrowed her eyes at me now, "would have been taken and kept alive for your hand, but treated like nothing more than a tool. The Qunari do not tolerate magic any more than we do, and you would be in the most valuable position, but the most mistreated."

My throat caught a breath and I forced a dry swallow. "... should I be worried about walking into this?"

Leliana shook her head. "I do not believe so. If you do accept the bargain, then I will keep an eye on him, Herald."

"Please do," I replied weakly.

I was not fucking ready for this.

* * *

 **Note:** _It never did sit well with me, the line that Bull gives you about already talking to Leliana before even meeting the Inquisitor, that Leliana never brings it up or warns the Inquisitor ahead of time. Either way, this is my way of explaining that little oversight._

 _Hope you enjoyed it!_


	8. ACT I: Friends Close And Enemies Closer

**Running On Empty:** _Friends Close and Enemies Closer_

* * *

The next morning I found myself dressed in my leathers and out my cabin door to find Solas. If I as going to traverse the Storm Coast, I was going to do with it the closest people I had as friends. Despite Leliana's explanation and encouragement that I had all I needed to know (doubtful), I still wanted people I could trust at my back. I was also going to put Leliana's Warden-hunting on the back burner for now, a bit out of spite. I waved to Varric as I passed, he had already been made aware of the fact that we were, once more, going to head out. I never gave that poor dwarf a break. If it had been anything less than meeting with a Qunari spy, I would have considered taking Sera.

"Good morning, Herald." Solas greeted me as I trudged up the steps. He looked about as crisp as the morning air did in the glittering light of the morning son and wasn't that just poetic? I grunted, as I was two levels below the devil when it came to being a morning person. He waited until I was level with him, watching me with distant eyes as I sighed and settled into my heels next to him.

"Is it Herald, now, Solas?" I quietly asked. "I didn't think I had fallen so far."

His demeanor relaxed a bit. "No, you haven't. I expected some frustration from you for having overstepped and caused you discomfort."

"No, you didn't, buddy." I sighed and scratched at the base of my skull under my braid. "I... wanted to say I was sorry." His brow curved up to his non-existent hairline and I chuckled. "Right? I know. I - I know what you were trying to do, and I appreciate it. I'm just sorry that the dam broke the way it did."

"... and I apologize for not realizing how close I had gotten." He bowed his head with closed eyes. "I will be more mindful in the future. I merely..." He struggled for a moment and my gaze bounced between him and the passing people that made their way to Aiden's cabin for healing. Solas took a steadying inhale. "There is much I wish to know about your - situation. So much to learn, so different from what I know. I feel as if perhaps I am one of the few, if the only, who could understand the sheer vastness of it."

I chuckled and kept my voice low. "You have a pretty good handle on the Fade, Solas. I wouldn't be surprised if you _could_ understand my world better than I did. But. I did consider what you said." His gaze came back to me, but mine had dropped to the ground between our feet, my nerves failing me. "I'm still scared. _Very_ scared, but... I will try." My gaze drew up and settled on his face. "I can't promise it will be easy for me, or that I'll always want to, but I'll try."

Solas offered me a rare, gentle smile. "That is all I ask, my friend. Do not seclude yourself insomuch that we may never find you again."

I grinned. "Nope, I'm too fucking loud for that."

"Quite," he sighed. There was a beat, and he ventured with a curious gesture of his chin toward Varric's tent. "I saw you speak with Varric before you went to bed last night. He promptly escaped to the tavern after." He raised his brow again at my sudden burst of laughter and waited, amused. "Something I should know?"

"Yeah, well." The snickers died out quickly at the thought of the Qunari and the mercenaries I was about to face. "It's the other reason I'm here. We're heading out to the Storm Coast today, and hopefully be there in a week and a half's time."

"Oh?" Solas' ears twitched, intrigued. "We just returned. Why so sudden a departure?"

"You're coming, so don't be smug." My finger made him aware of his position with a flick. "Yesterday I got an invitation to go see a mercenary group in action by the name Bull's Chargers. Ever hear of them?" At the shake of his head, I sighed. "Yeah, me neither, clearly. Leliana has already been trading missives with the commander and - the kicker's that the commander is a Qunari."

Solas remained the picture of sturdiness. "Indeed. That is not uncommon for Tal Vashoth to run in mercenary companies, although... it is a bit strange if they're intermixed with humans, but I digress."

"See, I didn't know any of that." My nose flared with my huff. "I had a crash-course on Qunari, their culture, and random tidbits of information with Leliana after a soldier of the company slammed with _big guy with the horns_ explanation of what a Qunari was."

"Oh, dear." Solas fought a smile, that bastard. "I can imagine that was a bit shocking."

"I can un-forgive you, Solas. I swear it."

It was good to be back in good graces again.

In any case, Solas had left my side soon after to pack for the travel as we had planned to leave as soon as possible to retrieve the mercenary company. It was a bit desperate of me to go with the first one that appeared, but they were vetted by my spymaster and they _did_ have reference in Val Royeaux (once Josephine was in the loop, she knew them quite well). That, and by the time we had another mercenary company step with enough men to help, it would be too late for Redcliffe. I needed the bodies to help with supplies, hunting, and clearing out the chaos. Hopefully they were the best ones to do it.

The scouts were going to be there long before we were, as Scout Harding had been rerouted from the Hinterlands to the Storm Coast. It would take us a week or so to arrive after them, still with no horses, but once more, with the company to help us get to Dennett, that problem would solve itself. Mid-morning found Cassandra, Varric, myself, and Solas packed and wearily ready for a trip out. We had no caravan this time, as the Storm Coast was too desolate of a place to be home to anyone like you could find in Redcliffe or its settlements. It was mostly military bases or the odd apostate that took residence in the area.

When we got there, I could see why. The clouds from overhead had slowly been creeping up on us as we traveled closer and closer to the coast, and I knew from experience that the weather was always a bit choppy when you were so close to the ocean. This was something else entirely. The rain was like a sheet that splattered over our heads and made the trek to the scouting camp a slip-n-slide that no one enjoyed. At some points Varric was almost up to his knees in mud and unpleasantness.

The storm had eased back the _slightest_ bit once we were at the camp, but it still made keeping my eyes open difficult. There was no point in redressing to meet with the mercenary company. We stopped at the camp and rested our weary bones. Scout Harding and some of her party were still gone, and the mercenaries hadn't appeared yet, as there was no sign of the Tevinter company either. The night went through uneasily, as the ground was soaked and it made sleeping in the tent vastly uncomfortable. I never thought I would see the day that I would prefer the Hinterlands dust and dirt to the sorrowful mess that was the Storm Coast.

I was up by early dawn as Harding had returned and there were murmurings that the mercenaries had appeared. I dressed in my leathers, taking care with my underclothes to keep the chafing to a minimum. Cassandra was noticeably displeased with her armor, the clinking of the rainfall on her chest plate and gauntlets started to annoy her. The only one that looked mildly less inconvenienced than the rest of us was Solas and I was nearly certain we all hated him for it.

Scout Harding was coming up from the requisitions table as I exited my tent. "Your Worship! For what it's worth, welcome to the Storm Coast."

I grunted.

"I would have sent word sooner, but our efforts have been... delayed." She bowed her head slightly and my interest came to full attention.

"How so?" I prompted. Cassandra appeared at my right side, her gaze focused intently on Harding. The scout spared the seeker a look and she sighed, shifting on her feet a bit before answering.

"There's a group of bandits operating in the area. They know the terrain, and our small party has had problems going up against them." She replied with a twist to her bottom lip. A heavy exhale escaped me and my hand reached up to pinch the bridge of my nose. Of course this wasn't going to be a simple thing, I knew better to than to expect an easy trip to the coast, retrieve the mercenaries, and then get the hell out of dodge.

Harding nodded, as if she agreed. "Some of our soldiers went out to speak with their leader, but we haven't heard back from them yet."

"I'll see what I can do, Harding." I would have to make the first priority finding my lost soldiers. We were extremely thin on members for the Inquisition, and if there was a group going around and terrorizing my people, I would need to slap that down as quickly as possible. I didn't need them thinning the herd anymore than it was already stretched. With a huff, I shouldered my maul over into its holster and made my way down the precarious slope toward the gravel coast. As we neared, I could hear the clangs of blades and the buzz of lightning. I looked back to my companions who gave me swift nods and we bolted for the battle.

I was a bit more prepare this time. A mess of a fighter still, but swinging the maul was becoming easier after months of training and ambushes. Briefly I could see that the factions were different. It seemed the Bull's Chargers were all adorned in personal armor to fit their styles, I could spot Aclassi not far from me, and as Cassandra dashed off, I spotted the bare feet of an elven mage, her staff lighting through the rain. The Tevinter mercenaries were cloaked in white and silver. Varric stayed with me, with Solas casting a hastened barrier over us before he lost reach of Cassandra and followed her afterward. It was an odd sort of thrill that my companions trusted me just enough to leave me to fight.

"I got you, sweetheart!" Varric called from behind me. My muscles steeled under my skin as I rushed forward. Fighting on gravel terrain was excruciating and was the exact example referenced when quoting _one step forward, two steps back_. Every step I managed to surge forward, I felt my ankle sink through the stones. I was grateful Cassandra had forced me into wearing the high-water leather boots that came over my leggings, but god damn it did it feel like it did nothing to stop the soak that shook my bones.

A Tevinter mercenary entered my vision and I saw his staff twirl behind him, an electrical spark at the ready. _Smart. The rain would douse fireballs and make earth spells difficult._ I feinted to one side as Varric's arrow shot from Bianca and forced the mage to side step away from me. It was enough that I dug my heel into the gravel and gripped with both hands, swinging up and through the hip of the mage. Their staff came down with a clang and my arms shook.

 _Metal!_

A reinforced staff made things trickier but I was sure I could handle it. I whistled to Varric as I retreated and another bolt flew just above my shoulder, startling the mage into a jump backwards. I needed space to pick up enough momentum for a blow, I was too small of a frame to wield the maul in close combat with the same deadly force as I had from afar. My second swing was over my shoulder and the mage watched with confusion, I was too far for the swing to connect.

It didn't need to, it hit the ground head first and I used the momentum to propel me forward like a vaulting pole. The head of the maul had a wider surface area than my feet did, and despite its weight, it wouldn't sink in as far. Once it launched me forward and my feet connected to the ground, closer to the mage, my hips twisted and spun me a full three-hundred-sixty degrees to bring the maul back up over my head. The mage had stumbled back in surprise, but a bolt from Bianca had capped his knee.

The head of my maul came down into his chest and his ribs shattered. I could feel the rattle of the bones breaking all the way up into my arms, heat seared up through my stomach and into my mouth, but I pushed through it and took another heavy step forward to drive the maul down into his chest cavity. He gasped wetly, gurgling under his mask, arms flailing uselessly to remove my maul, but collapsed as my weight crashed behind it.

I tried not to keep count of how many fell to my maul anymore. Not after all these months. Varric and I continued with another, I was not as swift of a fighter as Cassandra or Cullen, but the one or two that I managed to distract were one or two that my companions would not have to contend with in the end. One Tevinter had managed to sneak up on me in the chaos, a lightning bolt caught me in the back and I screamed, realizing too late that Solas' barrier had faded away.

"Herald!" Cassandra snarled as she ripped through the one mace-wielder she had been fighting. With swift swings, she relieved him of his leg and then his head, not waiting to watch his body slump toward the ground. Solas had already sped toward me using his fade step and dropped a barrier on me as the mage attempted another spell. I had gotten too far from Varric; I noticed my mistake as I looked up and spotted my archer surrounded by crafty rogues and dodging their daggers.

 _Fuck_ , I struggled to my feet. I had never been hit with a full lightning bolt before and my heart sputtered with violent protest, in complete disagreement to the sudden intrusion of an unnecessary jolt to the system. I couldn't control my lungs, they felt exposed beyond my ribs and snarled with every breath I tried to take. My arm was about as strong as noodle and trembled as I reached for it to bring it up. Cassandra reached the mage and tore through him with all the ferocity of a wild cat, but a rogue had come up to finish me. I rolled on my back and looked up through the rain, preparing for the blow.

I managed to drag my maul over me in time to catch the wrist that brought the blade down to my neck. I kicked hard, unable to see where it could land and forced the rogue to stumble away. A flash of blue passed over my head and Solas then stood above me, Varric just at his side, an intense growl over his lips as Bianca howled her discontent. My head fell back into the gravel, the rain smothering my face as the sounds of fighting soon died out. Solas stayed above me for a moment longer, his eyes scanning the area for danger, before his staff was fleetly whisked away behind his back and he dropped to his knees next to me.

"Jaime," he breathed, his exertion palpable through his words. I reached up and gripped his elbow with a shaky hand, my breath tumbled awkwardly through my lungs and my chest heaved. I patted his arm and waved off Varric and Cassandra as they surrounded me. Solas pulled at my shoulders to sit me up and I shook out my head, ears filled with water. I coughed and used my maul and Solas' offered hand to haul my ass up off of the ground. I was glad to have my full body soaked through, otherwise that mark of mud down my back would have been embarrassing.

"Well, there goes first impressions." I muttered darkly, patting my back before gingerly replacing my maul in its holster. I glanced at Varric, "I'm sorry I ditched you there, buddy."

He breathed a sigh of relief, "No, you're good, sweetheart, I just was surprised at how fast you were moving."

"Yeah, the Commander's new training routine." I griped. "Put sixteen thousand kilos on Jaime's back and watch her run three kilometers before she passes out."

Cassandra snorted. "Exaggeration. It was more around the count of ten thousand."

"Oh, har har." I snapped good-humored at her. She gave me a flash of a feral grin and it disappeared in the next drop of rain as we made our way over to the Chargers. Aclassi's back faced me as I approached and he covered what may have been his commander in front of him. I could only tell that because of the big points of broad horns that were visible on either side of Aclassi's shoulders. My heart hammered up to the base of my skull as I took steady, measured steps toward them. I had never seen a Qunari, but at least I was not as wholly unprepared as I was before Leliana's lessons. Aclassi turned to me once he could hear my steps and smiled warmly.

"Your Worship." He greeted. I bowed my head to him, avoiding looking at the shadow out of the corner of my eye for the longest moment before I finally turned. The air I breathed seized in my lungs and all the muscles along my jaw jumped and gripped my bones tight, my teeth hurting from the force of it. I'm sure my eyes went wide, but my shoulders and spine went stiff and it took all the strength I had left to draw my arms behind my back and clasp my hands together at the small of my back.

He was sitting, and he was already a thousand times bigger than life itself.

I could excuse my nervous, shuddering breath to the blow I had taken, to the cold of the rain seeping into my clothes, to the weight of my maul that betrayed me with sudden weightlessness at the sight of the creature in front of me. Whatever I had thought before about being prepared had been nothing but the biggest, fattest lie I had ever told myself; even worse than when I convinced myself I could be the Herald of Andraste.

 _Fuck me, he's a monster._

"So you're with the Inquisition, huh?" A swift glance passed over me with his good eye. "Glad you could make it. Have a seat, drinks are coming." He dismissed Aclassi with a wave and the soldier left with a nod. I could see no place to sit that wasn't in direct contact with the Qunari so instead I stayed standing. My companions were a ways away from me, close enough to defend me (I hoped), but far enough to allow me the illusion of _leader_ and _control_. I was fucking shaking in my boots.

"The horns are a giveaway," I murmured, finally finding my voice. "The Iron Bull, I presume?"

Another glance, assessing me longer. He grinned. "Yeah, they usually are." Aclassi returned but with no drinks in his hand and I was relieved. I didn't want to be placed in a position of turning down a drink and being rude, but the mead and alcohol was stronger here than I was accustomed to back in my old world. The last thing anyone needed was a Herald drunk off her ass. "I assume you remember Cremisius Aclassi, my lieutenant?"

I nodded again to Aclassi, my smile sincere. "I do. I never did apologize for startling you like I did."

"It's alright, Your Worship." He snickered. "I should have seen it coming, just my luck." The tease eased my anxiety a bit and my shoulders lowered as Aclassi turned back to the Iron Bull. "Throat-cutters are done, Chief." I glanced about and I could see some of the Chargers were bouncing from one body to another. I was struck by surprise when I realized they were making sure that no one was pretending to play dead. I swallowed at the idea and brought my attention back to the Bull.

"Already? Have them check again, I don't want any of those Tevinter bastards getting away." The Iron Bull grinned at his lieutenant. "No offense, Krem." I blinked at the jab, the information hitting with the strength of a brick to the face. _Aclassi is Tevinter? Christ, I need to do my research_. I had been so focused on Iron Bull that I failed to follow up with Leliana on any of his members of his company. A sigh pushed through my throat with my frustration. Another problem for another day.

"None taken," there was a tilt to Aclassi's voice, like the joke had been an old one. He turned with another snicker, "At least a bastard knows who his mother was, puts him one up on your Qunari, right?" The lieutenant paced away to check back in with the rest of the company and my brain whirled. Leliana was right, _he's going to test you. If he asked me to withhold the missives, it's because he's going to assess your reactions. Play the game._ Another deep and exfoliating exhale as I focused my eyes back on the Bull. His gaze hadn't followed his lieutenant, but stayed with me, instead. He had watched my reaction to meeting him head-on, and my reaction to learning a morsel of information on Aclassi.

I smiled, patient. _Let's play your game, The Iron Bull._ _You're not the only one with secrets_.

"So..." He trailed off with a wayward glance at my companions. "You've seen us fight. We're expensive, but we're worth it... and I'm sure the Inquisition can afford us." I had to steady myself, focus like I had done at all my brother's chess games. It was a play where the moves always mattered, right up to the end. Just because a pawn was moved to an inconsequential space didn't mean it wouldn't be a devastating blow later if you weren't careful.

"I'm pretty sure I don't want to know how much it's going to cost me." I answered, the smile I had turning a bit roguish. It was easy with the mud on my face and my hair flattened against my head with the rain. The Iron Bull's head tilted and I almost swayed on my feet when his horns moved. A quiet reminder that fucking hell those still existed. I had nearly forgotten about them as I kept my eyes on his face.

"Wouldn't cost you anything personally, unless you bought drinks later." He chuckled. "Your ambassador, uh - what's her name? - Josephine? We'd go through her and get the payments set up." He waved a dismissive hand and leaned back on his rock like it was a throne, the smirk now in place. "The gold will take care of itself, don't worry about that. What matters is that we're worth it."

"The Chargers seem like an excellent company." I replied politely with my gaze shifted for a moment to see the members piling the bodies away. I looked back to The Iron Bull and my spine coiled tighter under my shoulders. There was something off about the smirk and I didn't appreciate feeling like I was an open book. My hand gripped my wrist firmly behind my back.

"They are, but you're not just getting the boys." The smirk smoothed out to a firm, pressed lines over his face. "You're getting me." He stood and I fought the sudden, instinctive scream of my muscles to take a step back. I refused to give way. The gravel under us hissed as he stood and his shadow passed over me. My heart shuddered and I took the moment to lower my gaze for a second to breathe and look up as he walked past me. _Holy fucking shit_.

"You need a front-line bodyguard. I'm your man." He gestured to where I had fallen and I winced as I followed him. So it had been something he had seen and it had placed me in a bad position to negotiate. It wasn't as if I had planned to use my strength as a bargaining chip, but to be seen as weak was just as bad. He led us a few paces away from his seat and out of the corner of my eye Cassandra and Solas followed me with their gazes. Varric was the only one that took a handful of steps to stay within range of Bianca. The Iron Bull continued, "Whatever it is - demons? Dragons? Name it. The bigger, the better."

 _Not sure they get much bigger than you - and **dragons**_?

"And there's one one more thing, might be useful, might piss you off." He stopped and swiveled on his heel to face me again. "Ever hear of the _Ben-Hassrath?_ "

My relief flooded my stomach, back on a topic I was semi-prepared to have. "A little bit. Spies, mostly, right?" The one eye he had narrowed on me and I presented my innocence to the court, keeping my chin up and my hands behind my back. He snorted and I was alarmed to see the breath come from his nose and steam through the cold rain. The sight made me shudder because how was that possible? He was shirtless and probably losing heat at a rate that would give me hypothermia.

"Right," he murmured. "Spies, secret policy. They handle information, loyalty, security, all of it... Or, well. _We're_ spies."

 _And there it is._

My head tilted and when I made no move to answer his dropped bomb, there was a tick of a smile on his lips. By now he must've figured out that I either learned most of this from Leliana or had come across the information in some other form. I didn't care as long as he knew I was not going to be had by the game-play he was placing across the board.

"The _Ben-Hassrath_ are concerned about the Breach. Magic out of control like that could cause trouble everywhere." His head shifted again and it took me a moment to recognize the gesture as a bow of his head. "I've been ordered to join the Inquisition, get close to the people in charge, and send reports on what's happening."

"I suppose that's fair." My voice came to me again, steadier this time. My heart was still fluttering in my chest. "If there's a hell-mouth threatening one person's head, it's probably a threat to everyone. Though, this does sound a bit one-sided, if I'm to be honest."

The Iron Bull raised a hand. "I also _get_ reports from the _Ben-Hassrath_ agents all over Orlais. You sign me on, I'll share them with your people." Oh shit, and that was another chip in the game I wasn't ready for, with so much weight on it that I knew turning him away now would be a mistake. Internally, I winced. Leliana would not forgive me passing it up and he probably was well aware of how desperately we needed information.

"I do find it funny that you're a spy and just readily gave me that information." My head turned up to him. If I had to wager a guess, he was probably a good foot taller than I was, and that was dizzying. The scarred face before me frowned and he sighed heavily through his nose again, the steam less visible now than it was before.

"Whatever happened at that Conclave thing, it's bad." He answered heavily. "Someone needs to get the Breach closed." The good eye traveled down from my face to my left side. The Mark seemed to hiss silently in my palm, the pulse a challenge beneath my skin. My fingers curled in tightly, alarmed by the sensation. I hadn't felt anything like that since the first day I had hiked up the mountainside with Cassandra toward the ruin Temple of Sacred Ashes.

"So whatever I am," he continued gently, perhaps having caught my frigidness. "I''m on _your_ side." I needed something to do with my hands, they were starting to shake. My left hand instinctively came up to my face and rubbed at my eye.

I didn't miss the way Bull's eye followed it, but I ignored it. "What would you send in these reports of yours?"

"Enough to keep my superiors happy. Nothing that would compromise your operations." He refocused his attention on my face. "The Qunari want to know if they need to launch an invasion to keep the whole damn world from falling apart." That was another point to Leliana as she had hit the nail right on the head. I'm not even certain why I was surprised anymore. Bull paused for a moment, huffing. "You let me send word about what you're doing, it'll put some minds at ease. That's good for everyone."

"Fucking hell, yeah." I grumbled, my illusion breaking. The novelty of his uniqueness was starting to wear off as the pressure of what his presence entailed grew. I had never forgotten how dangerous the Breach was, nor how it affected the people closest to me, but it had slipped my mind that I was in a whole new world and it had other countries, governments, political climates just like my old one. The fact that I was smack-dab in the middle of it was starting to cause me physical pain.

My cursing had surprised Bull momentarily, he blinked hard. The re-assessment began again, because I was stiff to my shoulders from trying to keep up the illusion that I had everything under control. I didn't, and I wasn't Leliana. I couldn't play the game as well as she or Josephine could. Besides, it already sounded like Leliana and Bull and worked out most of the details, I was just a simple formality to keep me in the loop.

I'm not sure why that stung more than I thought necessary.

"What would we be getting in these _Ben-Hassrath_ reports?" My inhale was deep and I looked up, one hand braced gently on my brow to act as a shield from the rain.

"Enemy movements, suspicious activity, intriguing gossip. It's a bit of everything." The chuckle rumbled up from his chest, "If your spymaster is worth a damn, she'll put 'em to good use."

That was bait, but I took it. "She?"

He paused and gave a well-practiced, nervous sounding chuckle. "I did a little research, plus I always had a weakness for redheads." Well, that was charming. I had known that Leliana was relatively well rumored as Lady Nightingale of the court, and deducing down the line of evidence, one could figure that a sleuth like Leliana would eventually end up in the Inquisition, it was practically in the name even if she wasn't a Spaniard. How he knew she was a redhead, though, I would have to mention to Leliana in case it was a point of concern.

"Welp." I sighed, my hand dropping from my forehead. "I wasted enough time, let's go." It was the first point I had won all day; Bull's weight shifted on his bad, braced ankle and he winced in pain and surprise. I nodded, acting as if I took no notice of it all. "Pack up your men and let's head back up to the scouting camp, we need to figure some things out."

"We're hired?" He clarified.

I stopped and turned to him, innocent. "Weren't you? I'm pretty sure I was sent here just as a formality. Too keep my feathers from being ruffled and making me feel important, no?" That was viciously unfair, as he had given me the opportunity to feel like my opinion was important, but I wasn't stupid. The deck was already stacked against me from the start. Bull stood apart from me, the gaze of cordial hospitality had been replaced by something stranger and sharper.

"You could reject he offer." He stated calmly. He didn't add anything beyond that, and it hurt my head to slither through the reasons why; anything he told me beyond that would be giving more information, confirming or denying things that had been discussed without my knowledge. He wasn't playing the mercenary company commander at the moment, he was playing the spy.

"I could," I answered softly, the rain catching most of my words. I took a step toward him, facing him fully. "But considering what I've heard of the Qunari, you'll find another way in. This is just more _your_ style, being straight forward and blunt, because then who would suspect otherwise? They'd expect you to keep your word that the Qunari wouldn't intrude."

"How do you figure?" He was in learning mode, now. I was giving away too much, but I was tired and Redcliffe was at that back of my mind. The more time I spent here trying to justify myself or appease my ego, the more time I lost that could be spent helping the settlements of the Hinterlands.

Not that my mouth followed that logic, "I used the same tactic with my caregivers when I was a kid, for reference." He must have heard the concocted story by now; that I was raised as an orphan in a Chantry in Ferelden, burnt down during the Fifth Blight and I perhaps the sole survivor of the whole spectacle. I could intermingle my childhood with my siblings from another world into that, if I worded it right. I smiled, "Whenever I felt like I had been caught, but wanted the best chance to come out with what I wanted, I told the truth _before_ it became a problem. We had a phrase for that."

His head tilt and his brow furrowed. Amused, his lips quirked. "And what was that?"

"Better to ask for forgiveness than permission." I answered promptly. "If Mother Olivia thought I was honest and sincere in my apology, I escaped the worst of the punishment. She would also forget the stash of sweets I took. A win-win, as far as I was concerned at eight years old."

"Well, well." His nose twitched with a soft snort. "Color me surprised."

I turned back on my heel and waved to my companions and had them follow as we trudged back up toward the camp. "The day I surprise you, The Iron Bull, is the day I buy rounds for the Inquisition."

"If that's the case, I could just lie and play it off." He laughed, not following me back as my companions caught up with me. I assumed he was waiting for Aclassi.

My reply was a snort, "And what? Miss out on the challenge? Nah, that ain't your style either." With my back turn I couldn't see his expression, but a quick flick of Solas' eyes told me enough. Cassandra took up my right side and Solas came around my left. Varric, always, at my back. The relief of leaving the conversation flooded me and I shivered with no relation to the icy touch of rain.

"I say that went well." Varric cut in from behind us. There was a beat or two that went by as we ducked under fallen trees and branches, the scouting camp not far from the beach. Harding was back at the requisitions table and a few more soldiers had appeared. I would have to start planning this right so I got the most out of this mercenary company.

"I don't know if it did." I finally replied. I stopped at the edge of the camp and turned to look down at the beach. I could see figures of the company dashing about to collect barrels and spoils from the Tevinters they had felled. "My suspicions were right that he had already settled things with the Inquisition. Knowing Josephine's name was a given, what with her being our ambassador, but he knew about Leliana." I hadn't told Cassandra or Varric about my conversation with the two heads of The Hydra concerning the Qunari. Solas was the only one in the full loop.

My eyes closed with a sigh, _so many threads to keep track of, shit._

"He did?" Cassandra's sharp face furrowed. "How much did he know?"

"He didn't know her name, but that's more of a guess at this point." My eyes shifted to her. My hand ran over my flattened hair and scratched behind my ear. "I suspect he does, but he knew our spymaster was female and a redhead."

"He may have seen her at some point." Solas' voice was low. "Leliana did work for the Divine and was usually sent out to handle particular situations that required a swift hand. Given that the Bull's Chargers work out of Val Royeaux and Nevarra, it's likely. Spies know each other well, not by name, but by trade." I rubbed at my face with both hands. Cassandra shifted uncomfortably next to me and Varric remained quiet, contemplating. My poor viper was like me; we preferred things right to our face with little fanfare. Varric and Solas were more inclined to intrigue and gossip.

"Are we assuming The Iron Bull is a spy?" Cassandra sniffed, her gaze snapping back down toward the beach. I could see the shadow of the company as it made its way up the slope toward us. Our time was running out to discuss this freely.

"He is one," Varric rumbled with a sigh. "If I'm reading this right, Leliana already knew, and we were sent out here under the pretense of 'recruitment' but it was just to save Jaime's face."

"Yup." My lips popped. I shrugged when Cassandra turned offended eyes to me. "Hey, look, I just found out before we left. He was pretty much signed on whether I said yes or no."

"I don't like it." Cassandra growled. "The Qunari should not be making decisions for us, sending us spies under the guise of mercenaries. They play on our weakness, Jaime."

"I know they do, lovely." I couldn't offer her much more than another shrug; apologetic. "And it's a sore weakness, but I would keep the enemy I _can_ see closer than not know whoever the second attempt was if I refused."

Solas nodded, his voice still lowered. "Agreed. The Qunari would not have stopped sending spies until one of them made it through, either as a courier, a messenger, or a scout. Something or someone smaller that would go unnoticed in our roster." The company was nearly to us now, with Bull leading the front and Aclassi by his side. My hand reached out and landed on Cassandra's arm and I waited until her eyes turned to me.

"Besides, we're going to vet them with my next plan." My viper seemed far from accepting of the idea, but I had earned some level of trust with her because she nodded and forced her mouth tight over her teeth.

"What do you have in mind?" She asked, her patience painfully thin.

"We're going to separate them." I said firmly, but the idea of sending Cassandra away was picking at my anxiety. "Scout Harding mentioned those bandits, remember? I see a few soldiers came back, but she's still stressed. Not all of them have returned. I'm... going to keep Bull here with me, and we'll clear the coast, but _you_ , my dear, are going to lead the rest of the Chargers back to the Hinterlands." Every word that came out of my mouth made Cassandra stiffen under my hand. I gripped her bicep just under her plating to keep her from lunging at me.

"Herald, is that _wise?_ " She hissed. I picked up on the fact that it was becoming a habit among my people to call me anything other than my name when they were displeased with me. Solas' and Varric's gazes bounced between me and the Seeker. I had perhaps two minutes left before the company was on us, if I judged the distance right from the corner of my eye.

"I'll keep Varric and Solas with me." I calmly added, but her words made me doubt. Would a mage and a dwarf be enough to stop a raging bull if I took a wrong step? "Solas has enough in his arsenal to stop Bull and Varric's a pain in everyone's ass. I _need_ you to take these mercenaries and start helping Corporal Vale. Those people have waited long enough for the Inquisition to make good on its promises." It was a low blow, as the Inquisition was more Cassandra's project than mine, but playing to her honor and ethics was the only way to get her to play along.

Bull and Aclassi pulled up next to our group, the rest of the company spilled out around us. Scout Harding had been alerted to our presence by another soldier and she made her way down toward us, face stern and pinched with stress. I made space for my scout next to me and dropped my hand from Cassandra's arm, trusting that she would remain at my side. She did. Solas' fleet of foot movements brought him behind me, to present the picture of silent protector. Varric stayed at Cassandra's side. It was an interesting line up and Bull's eye roamed over us before landing on me.

"So here's the deal." I glanced between Aclassi and Bull, my main audience, and then down to Harding. "Scout Harding, The Iron Bull and his lieutenant, Cremisius Aclassi." Harding bowed her head and pleasantries were exchanged before I plowed on, eager to have this mess over with, I didn't like being the main source of attention. "Your company is going to be separated. Lieutenant Aclassi and the rest of the Chargers are going to be led by Seeker Cassandra back to the Hinterlands." There was a twitch amongst the company; I figured it was a rare thing that they were separated from Bull. The man in question made no sign of discomfort at the order.

I turned to Aclassi and the man straightened under my gaze. "Once at the Hinterlands your main priority will be to assist the refugees with supplies, shelter, and relocation. Seeker Cassandra will direct your movements majority of the time, but there is a soldier, Corporal Vale, who'll give you the finer details of what needs to be accomplished." Aclassi nodded, his shoulders still drawn back and straight. The rest of the company looked less liable to murder me upon the realization that they were to keep one of their leaders.

I don't know if I was shaking from the bitterness of the rain or my anxiety. "You've probably got some idea of how nasty it's been out there, so I'm not gonna lie; it's a shit-hole." The few laughs I gained was worth the tremble of my voice. My throat pulled down a hard swallow and I visibly shook, my companions and Bull looked over me with concern. "It's fucking cold, guys, don't give me that look." More laughter broke out and I was pleased to see that there was a fraction of relaxation to touch the Iron Bull's face and Aclassi's shoulders.

"In any case," I coughed with a fist to my mouth. "You're expecting heavy resistance, mages and Templars alike. Keep in mind that we're not going through like a purge, we're weeders." The metaphor was a strange one, but I was fucking nervous and impromptu speeches were not my style. Not to such a large crowd, anyway. "Anyone that surrenders or ask for sanctuary, you take in, regardless of what or who they are. Our main face is that we are a defender, not an annihilator. Clear?"

"Clear!" Aclassi and the rest of the company answered. The shake in my bones from the cold covered my surprise at the unified response. Bull's head tilted as he watched me, but it was easier to ignore him when I had Aclassi to look at, as _he_ didn't have giant horns that made me nervous.

"Good. Now." I looked down at Scout Harding and the woman gave me a sideways glance. "My company and I will be staying here to look for those bandits. Leave a handful of our best and a few birds, we'll report any more activity. Pack up and head out to the Fallow Mire, looking for that missing patrol is your first priority, Harding."

"Your Worship." Harding fought a grin from her face, as it had been the first direct order I had given her. She, perhaps like the rest of my council, enjoyed watching my progressive growth. Snotty thing, she was, but I could love her for it as the confidence it gave me was appreciated. She saluted me with a fist across her chest and a bow and then turned to Cassandra. "Seeker Cassandra, we've gotten word that there's a caravan heading through the passage toward the Hinterlands. If we're quick, we can catch them."

Cassandra sighed and starched her spine. "Very well. Herald," my viper bowed her head to me, but her eyes flashed with warning, "Good hunting." I flashed her a nervous grin and waited until she and the rest of the crowd trekked up to the campsite, leaving me with the three men. I paused a beat for dramatic effort and then sighed with a gust from my lungs, slumping a bit in my armor.

"Yeah, you're dead." Varric played along, casual in his response. "You are _so_ dead."

"Nah, c'mon." I teased with a glance back at Cassandra, once again avoiding Bull. "She loves me."

"Love to kill you, maybe." Varric laughed. My sigh was covered by Solas' chuckle as the elf came around from behind my back to my side, slotting in naturally next to me. Varric rubbed at the back of his head and turned his gaze up to pull. "Welcome to the Inquisition, where the Herald is cute and chews through her leash most days."

I squawked, "H-hey, _once_."

"Wait, _once_?" Bull finally picked up the thread of conversation, his good eye wide. "I don't know what's more surprising, that you actually had a leash, or that you chewed through it?"

"It was Seeker Cassandra's attempt at friendship." Solas deadpanned, brow high and hands behind his back. "Needless to say, but it turned out quite well."

"You're all a bunch of bastards." I snipped with a tug at my leather chest piece. "I hope you're ready for a slog through the rain, because that's what you're getting. Hop to, and all that shit." I muttered with a step out toward the path that carved inland from the coast.


	9. ACT I: Uptown

**Running On Empty:** _Uptown_

 **Note:** _You ever try to Beta-read your own work at 2AM, see an error but you're on mobile so you can't change it, then wake up hours later and can't find it again? Yeah, I'm there._

* * *

I didn't know how to act around The Iron Bull. My skin itched despite the rain and I couldn't feel normal. The usual banter I had with my group had come from trial and error. It was built on months of mistakes and toe-stepping and offending one another, and a majority of my party _then_ knew my predicament. Cassandra and Solas were _well aware_ that a lot of my awkwardness stemmed from my sudden arrival into this world.

In the end, I suppose that meant that I was to treat him as I first did Varric. New friendships were hard enough, but this was made harder still by knowing that this big beast of a sentient creature could kill me in a single swing (I did not miss that his maul was larger than mine) or that he was a spy. We took the path that drove us inland, wanting to cover the coast from up high instead of running into whatever had delayed my soldiers.

A thunderous roar echoed overhead and I froze, my eyes glued to the ground.

"Breathe, sweetheart." Varric immediately soothed, coming up beside me once he shouldered past Bull. His gloved hand touched at my elbow to anchor me. "Shit, I forgot you've never seen a dragon before. Where did it go, Chuckles?"

"Over yonder, past the coast." Solas replied thoughtfully, gazing through the fog. "There might be an island just beyond the fog, a nest, perhaps?"

"Ah, hell." I looked up toward the clouds, but there was nothing but fog and rain. My shaky fingers rubbed at my forehead and my gaze dropped to Varric beside me. "Demons, devils, Chantry Mothers, and now dragons. Who the fuck signed me up for this?"

Varric laughed. "I d-don't think one of those is like the others, sweetheart."

"The fuck it isn't," I snapped in amusement, picking my pace back up again. I truly was not surprised anymore by the shit that existed in this world, "You were _there_ , that Mother damn near took my head if she wasn't frail."

"Jaime," Solas' reprimand was lost in his chuckle.

"Is that your name, then?" Bull interjected quietly. The three of us paused, having relapsed into our normal banter. I cleared my throat and nodded with a quick glance over my shoulder to Bull. There was a certainty that he had already known my name, my "past," and my inner workings with the Inquisition; only the opening I had presented was neutral enough for him to take and join in with us.

"I hope you don't mind fast-paced introductions," I replied and continued my march through the wet plant life and mud. "Normally we'd sit around Varric's fire and have a drink of whatever the hell he's hidden from Cassandra, but I've got missing men to look for, and bandits to smack." Solas and Varric shared a look behind my back, Varric the only one grinning when they looked away.

"Someone's on fire today." Varric teased from the peanut gallery.

"Look, man." I groused. "I took a lightning bolt to my ass today, it's warranted." My gaze stayed forward in front of me. I would have to learn to work with Bull eventually, but it was easier to talk _at_ him than _to_ him at the moment. The horns were still unnerving and his height added to the dilemma. I could play it away as my concern over my soldiers (though, don't get me wrong, I _was_ worried about them).

I gave a short whistle, Varric and Solas' ears perking up. "If you boys don't mind changing the formation a bit?" Silently, Varric dropped to the back of our train and Solas shifted to my left side, leaving my dominate right side open for Bull. Without prompting or taking the hint from the vacant space, Bull moved toward my right. Like Solas, the Iron Bull was silent of foot once he came up to pace with me and I noticed he had to adjust his trot to not overtake my own.

I wondered what we looked like to Iron Bull? This was the first time I had an outsider in my circle of defense and it clinked like a bad piece of armor. We would have to get used to a new fighting formation, too, as now we had two maul wielders and no shield. Cassandra usually defended my flank and I doubt Bull would leave me open to abuse, but how would he know when to step up?

Time would tell, I figured.

"So, wild guess," I started gracelessly, my ankle tripped over a rock and I swayed into Solas, "Pretty sure you know my name. Jaime Welton. Orphan, Herald, Your Worship if you're so inclined - that was a joke - and asshat."

"You've seem to have caught her on one of her better days." Varric joked from the back. "She's normally not this talkative." The Bull's eye swiveled down to me, and once more I felt like I was treading over a field of landmines. What was I suppose to say to a spy that wasn't too much? I didn't want to alienate him, but damn it could have been better if I didn't know about it.

"Behind me, my traitorous storyteller, archer, and lay-a-bout, Varric Tethras." I continued, unperturbed by the commentary. Said dwarf rewarded me with a snort. My hand came up to Solas' shoulder, the elf turned a disinterested sideways gaze to me. The twitch of his ears and the flash of amusement I spied in his eyes told me otherwise. "Next to me, my apostate extraordinaire, Fade expert, and mightier-than-thou Solas."

"Pleasure," Solas said up to Bull with a nod of his head. With that, a thread snapped and released my lungs as I laughed. Of course Solas would have seen my discomfort and knew my method of coping was to either ignore it or smother it in humor. We couldn't ignore Bull, not when I had dragged him along with me, so humor was the next best thing.

I grinned up at Bull, relieved to have Solas with me. "Ta-da!"

"Well," Bull snorted, "You're an interesting bunch, to be sure. Not what the rumors say about you."

"Uh oh." Varric and I shared the reply. I laughed again at Bull's downward stare. "What are they saying now?"

"What _people_ say, or what the reports say?" He answered with a bit of cheek, catching on to our game. A flush flashed up to my ears and I sputtered, making him chuckle. Solas peered around me, interested in the bit of news. " _Ben-Hassrath_ reports have already come through with you in it. Most of them are studies that the Herald is usually distant, quiet, and lets her company handle the work when they're on the field."

 _Is that what I am? A distant head of state that no one knows?_ I huffed, it was a good thing, all around, because that meant that no one had gotten close enough. It was startling, as well, as that meant that there were already spies among us. A glance of mine flickered up to his face, my mind wondered if he had told me that in such a way to make me think on it.

 _Oh, god. This is going to hurt my head._

Ultimately, I realized as we wandered along the coast, it would be better if I took him at face value. Solas and Leliana were better at the intrigues, and at least with Solas I could trust he could keep me safe. My foot betrayed me, slipping through a slick pair of rocks and both Bull and Solas caught my arms, almost lifting me off my feet. I did dangle in the air for a good second or so, my flush stronger across my face.

Varric was howling with laughter. "Oh, this is just going to be the best thing ever."

"Sorry about that," Bull muttered, but he too was fighting a smile. "Didn't realize you were that light."

"Blame the Commander for that one," I grumped, rolling my shoulders to adjust my hiked up leather. My maul managed to keep most of it in place at the very least. "He's got this idea in his head that I'm actually a soldier and know how to fight."

"He does try." Solas teased, voice level from my left side. "You, on the other hand, are the obstacle."

"I am perfectly peachy." My nose twitched into the air. "Besides, he knew what he was getting into when I told him my knowledge on weapons stopped at about the six uses of a shank."

"... why a shank?" Bull asked with genuine curiosity. They proceeded to follow me up a hard slope to where I had spotted the tips of a cabin's roof. Hopefully there I would find my missing soldiers, or at least a camp that they would return to before it got too dark. The rain was being amicable as well, and didn't come down as hard on our heads.

"So there was this one time," I started, hauling my ass up the jagged path. I could see there were grooves in the hillside that lead straight up and would get us up there faster, but I was not about to tempt fate with a rock slide. "Back when I was ten - twelve? I dunno, I was small. And so, _shit_ ," my feet had lost my footing once more, but I was too far for anyone to catch me, and I corrected myself in short order.

There was a hilarious image of falling back and impaling myself on a horn, and wasn't that just a pleasant idea all around?

"I had gotten bored, found a stick and a broken, metal spoon, and proceeded to file the spoon down into a point." I continued. Varric's snort was ignored along with Solas' ever long-suffering sigh. Bastards, if they wanted me to be more open, they were going to have to deal with my stupid shit. "I wrapped some twine around the stick end and spoon, to hold them together afterwards, and thus, I had a shank."

"Did you use it on anyone?" Bull was torn between amusement and concern.

"No," I immediately replied with a look behind me as I came up to the level of the hilltop. My lungs puffed for a moment. "Well. Yes, but it was an accident."

"I do not believe that for a second." Varric was beside me and making his way toward the cabin. It was shabby and dilapidated, the wooden boards were rotting and slumping off the frame like mulch. My nose and lips scrunched at Varric's back childishly before I followed. Solas had gone a few steps behind Varric, both men knowing the routine of scouting ahead for me (because like my Charisma score was negative, my Perception checks were nightmarishly bad).

Bull stayed at my side and didn't walk forward until I did.

"So what was the accident?" Bull prompted after we reached the cabin and began to inspect it.

"Huh? Oh." My foot had caught on the door and tested it, then I gave up and moved toward the broken side of the cabin to peer inside. "Jordan followed me out to the field one day and snuck up on me. I caught her in the shoulder. It got infected, because duh, rusty spoon." I slipped into the cabin easy enough. The others were still wandering around outside, but Bull lowered his head and followed me inside as well. My throat tightened for a moment as fear took me by surprise.

 _Stop fucking acting like he's going to kill you. He can probably smell fear, shithead._

The inside of the dripping cabin was bare as bones, picked clean by whoever had been here before us. I was no tracker and couldn't tell one foot from another, but I still attempted to discern the foot prints that I found all along the ground. My eyes followed them down and around, through another room and then back again before they pattered off further on the hillside.

"Sweetheart." Varric breathed, warning laced the endearment. Solas and I stilled, waiting. Bull's eye narrowed and he took cover in the shadow of one of the broken walls. There was a beat, I couldn't see anything from where I was within the cabin and Solas was by the doorway. My gaze flickered to Varric who had taken refuge by a tree closest to the entrance.

"Four." Bull murmured to me. "Or five. I think I spotted two archers further past the second cabin. The other three are swordsmen, boss." My brain stuttered for a moment at the title of _boss_ , expecting him to have called me anything else other than that. My head turned to cast him a sideways glance and then I waved him out.

"Distract the swords," I murmured as he grinned with a heavy step past me. I turned to Solas and nodded my head, "Treat him as you would Cassandra. Stay on his flank. I'll stay with Varric." My companion nodded and slithered past me to plant himself in Bull's looming shadow. Time to test how well we could work together. I bounced over to Varric and withdrew my maul. Bianca hummed quietly as she was released and Varric hefted her into his arms with a tight nod.

 _Ready, steady, go._

My feet led the charge as Bull didn't start his own attack until he had caught me pick up speed. His maul came away from his back fleetly and surprised one of the swordsmen's by landing it on his head. The one that I had gunned for heard the cry of pain and turned, just in time to have my maul meet his face. The third one had hastily retreated to come away from the reach of Bull's weapon and sped towards me.

Varric fired on him over my head, the arrows landing inches from the swordsman's ankles. The bandit was swift and tumbled away, rolling over his shoulder and back up onto his feet, his sword hissing as it clashed with Solas' staff. Solas used his fade step to put some distance between them, preparing for the swordsman to follow, but the bandit turned his attention to Bull.

I circled the fighting pair to find the archers. Bull's lack of upper body armor ruffled my anxiety and I wanted to down the archers as quickly as possible to keep him from being hit. The only issue was that I still had the same problem with Varric as I did on the coast; I had gotten faster. An arrow sailed past me, wide to my left and startled one of the archers into popping out of her cover.

My maul came up over my shoulder, ready for a blow, and then I found myself dancing with teeth. A hound, armored, huge and bulky snarled out from the cover of the crates nearby and snapped his jaws over the handle of my maul, yanking me down with all the force of a train wreck. My yelp of surprise brought my companions' attention to me, but they were too far to do anything about it.

I had lost the battle of strength against the hound as the archer nailed me with an arrow that panged against my shoulder. The leather armor I wore lost a few stitches as I ducked and I nearly lost my hand as the hound took that opportunity to smack his jaws higher on the handle of my maul.

"Nope!" My maul was released and I dove to one side, avoiding the hound's lunge. My hand fumbled for the little knife that I had on my belt as doubt flirted with my mind; _don't think it's going to get through the armor the dog's wearing_. The hound turned back on me and there was a scream off to my new left, a stray arrow twanged into a nearby tree.

The hound turned on me for another lunge and panic gripped my stomach with a vicious twist. The armor was metal and strapped tight over the dog's body. I wouldn't get through it, I would have to get under it. My limbs shook as the idea razed every thought I had in my mind and shot through my arms as the hound lunged a second time.

"Jaime!" Varric's voice was distant. I had to get better at this fighting thing, otherwise my friends were going to have aneurysms every time an enemy managed to land a blow on me. The hound's gnashing teeth snapped over my guarded wrists and tore through the strap, a few teeth managed to catch skin. My blade was faster, though, as my nerves jerked my free arm up into the animal's ribcage and slammed into its lungs.

Of course, I failed to account for the animal's dead weight when it dropped on me.

"F-fuck." My diaphragm protested the weight and I lifted with both arms. Surprisingly, the animal's body lifted away without any trouble; that was, sadly, due to the fact that Bull had arrived and grabbed it by the scruff to yank it off me. Hastily I drew breath and coughed, relief making my stomach tremble and my throat dry.

"Hi," I said weakly, rolling onto my side as Bull dropped the dog. Solas and Varric jogged up to us, a bit worse for wear. There was a mark of red across Solas' cheek and Varric looked uncomfortably disheveled. My shoulders were shook out and my grab for Bull's helping hand was instinctive. His palm was ablaze with heat and had he not gripped my hand in return, I would have snatched my fingers back with a jerk of surprise.

"You alright?" Bull asked, glancing me over. I gave him a nod, my voice lost in a cough and pointed a weak finger to my lost forearm brace. Varric picked it up and handed it to me. My hand shook as I took it, the Bull's eye watched as I used teeth and shivering fingers to tighten the torn leather back to my trembling body part.

"Th-those must have been the bandits." My voice choked on another cough. "Search the area, there's gotta be something of our m-men here." Solas and Varric spared me a careful glance and only with an impatient wave of my hand did they relent and started for the second cabin. Bull stayed at my side until I began to walk along after them.

"That's not the cold." He murmured down to me. I refused to look up at him and shrugged, annoyed at myself. "That's a bit odd that you ran head first into the Vints but the dog startled you."

"I got the drop on the Tevinters." A twitch of my nose and it scrunched over my mouth. _Vints? What a name._ "The dog surprised me. I don't do surprises."

"Hmm." His hum rumbled next to my ear as my head was equal to his chest. The back of my jaw stiffened and my molars were gripped tight. I was all for the privacy of ones thoughts (hell with my secrets, it was a lifesaver), but the way Bull acted made me apprehensive. I wanted _to know_ what he thought of us. I had grown so accustomed to Cassandra, Solas, and Varric that I could tell on a sixty-to-forty scale of accuracy what they were thinking.

The Iron Bull, as much as I hated the cliché troupe, was an enigma.

The second cabin was in a better state than the first one we had found. The walls were a touch more solid aside from the far right wall that had a gaping hole of splattered and splintered wood. Solas checked the door as Varric went around the side to root out any unwanted guests. My feet took me inside the cabin and I was spared from the gentle mist of rain by a sturdy roof. It was starting to get funny, watching the Iron Bull duck and turn his head sideways to walk through a door. My eyes scanned around and then narrowed on a fallen body nigh invisible by the planks of broken wood.

" _No_ ," My breath hissed through my teeth as I made a skittered dash to the fallen soldier. I yanked the planks off and tossed them to one side, Varric appearing from the corner of my vision, Solas frowned and continued to search the cabin. Once the planks had been removed, my heart shuddered under my ribs. She was _incredibly_ young, feasibly younger than I was, pale faced and freckled.

"Damn." Varric sighed, his jaw tight. His gaze turned away and he shuffled over to Solas who seemed intent on inspecting something he had found in the rubble. With my knees against her side, I gently rifled through her pockets and armor, looking for anything that could identify her. She had nothing and a coal burned under my tongue to think she may have been looted by the bandits.

"She's got nothing, poor thing." My sigh was heavy and I placed a hand on my knee to stand with an awkward push. "I'm sorry." With another scan of the place I spotted a note that was nailed to a table near me. Frowning, I walked toward it, mindful of the body that laid before me. A gentle tug had the note free of the nail and my frown deepened as I attempted to read it. I was about halfway through with Bull watching and waiting before frustration got the best of me.

Growling faintly, I cast about for my companions. "Solas," the elf looked up from a book he had found and spied the note in my hand. He wandered over and I held it out to him, muttering, "I tried to read it. I got some of it, but it sounds like a riddle - or a warning?"

"She _can_ read," Varric had noticed Bull's surprised huff at my lack of understanding, "But handwriting is hard for her. That, or some of the longer words."

"Orphan," I murmured, listening to Solas mumble the words. I had been partially right, it had sounded like a riddle because of the choice of words, but the actual message itself was a warning. My cheeks puffed as Solas and I straightened with a look to each other.

"I've heard of this crest, it was in the book I found." Solas pointed off to where he had been nosing around. "Serpentstone and deepstalker hide. It's a quick thing to make, and it would allow you to challenge their leader."

"Does she want to, is the question." Varric pinned me with a look, his arms crossed over his broad chest. "It would save us the trouble of fighting through all of them, if they have more of our men."

I shook my head, my hand on my chin and the other across my stomach. "It doesn't sound like it. This isn't..." My lips pursed together and paused to allow me a moment to think. Bull's horns tilted out of the corner of my eye and the sensation of being assessed rippled up my spine. _Am I being tested?_

"Sweetheart?" Varric pressed when the silence went on for a beat longer.

"Well." My fingers curled and scratched at my chin. "Considering the terrain, as much as I would like to hope they did, I doubt these guys dragged Inquisition soldiers all the way back to their base. It would be too much of a hassle." My eyes drifted down to the girl at our feet. "Best deduction? They left her here so we would search and stumble on the message and killed the rest, stashing their bodies elsewhere."

"Still leaves the question of if we want to fight them." Bull added gently. My eyes swerved over to his giant form and saw only an neutral expression rest on his face. He wasn't offering information, nor was he trying to lead me into a decision, I don't think. He might have just used the opportunity to teach me, leaning on the idea that my orphan upbringing lacked certain skills.

"I don't want to, personally." My arms dropped to my side. "Ignoring vengeance or revenge or what have you, we just can't afford to do something that hasty." The heels of my palms came up and rubbed into my eyes and forehead, pushing some of my hair back. "And these bandits... they know the coast better than we do. If they can be reasoned with... I could use them to maintain the coast."

"That liberates much of the work from the Inquistion." Solas nodded, following along. "This is a desolate and nearly uninhabitable area. There's no trade, no settlers, and a dragon."

My shoulders shrugged, "Exactly. It'd be a win, because they can stay here and not be hostile or in anyone's way, and we still get reports coming out of the area. _And_ no one gets exposed to the dragon."

"I hate to be the demon's advocate here, but this is all banking on the fact that they'll actually honor that crest." Varric reasoned, his chin jutting toward the book. "Say we go through all that trouble to make it and get there, and they decide to attack us anyway?"

"That's what he's for," I pointed innocently to Bull, "to fuck shit up."

It was the first real laugh I got out of the hulking giant, and I was glad.


	10. ACT I: It Needs To Mean Something

**Running On Empty:** _It Needs To Mean Something_

* * *

I was all about efficiency, generally. Until we got the horses from the Horse Master in Redcliffe, I didn't want to go traveling to places that I couldn't get back to easily. Some places would still take weeks (if not months) of travel _with_ horses. Only thing was that horses carried supplies, people, and pulled carts. It would cut our expenses significantly if we didn't have to pay caravans to help us. I pondered the question as we rested at a camp along the western side of the Storm Coast. We had found a cave riddled with giant (fucking ass) spiders and the little velociraptor type creatures called 'deepstalkers.' If their teeth hadn't been so goddamn sharp, they would have been adorable.

The tents were set up in a tight circle that left only enough room for the birds, a fire, and the worktable. In the center of it all was a gigantic tree trunk that Bull had lugged from the forest line to the coast and shoved into the ground with some help of our soldiers. It stood with a large, scavenged oilcloth over the top, pulled taut at the corners and staked around our camping area. It protected the tents from the rain and allowed us a moment of respite from the constant downpour. The tents stayed drier, as well, and I knew that was something my soldiers were thankful to have after a long day.

"Copper for your thoughts." Varric asked, sitting next to me. I had taken up a place on a piece of driftwood within the protective circle of the tarp (because that's what it was, honestly) roof and tents. Solas stood off with an officer, attempting to figure out the easiest way to get a Mercy's Crest made and brought out here (and it was sounding more and more like I would have to leave to get it done), with Bull chatting to one of my girls off to one side. We were an interesting dynamic of a company.

"Should I... leave," I started, trying to sort through my jumbled thoughts. My knees were level with my hips and supported my elbows, my wrinkled hands brought together with my fingers tapping against my mouth as pondered aloud. "Should I leave, go back to Hinterlands, get the Mercy Crest finished at Redcliffe with an actual jeweler, _or_..." Damn, but I didn't know what to do. Any option I took had me days away from where I would be needed. Varric shifted in his seat with me, a rugged mug of something in his hands.

"Shit, I don't know what to do." My fingers left my face and ran through my hair, loose from the braid to let it dry as much as it could. "Because if I leave here without dealing with the Blades, or the bandits, or whatever, I leave my men open to hostilities. But I can't go fight the Blades without that crest, because then we loose a resource that we sorely need." My ribs ached from the cold of the rain and the fights earlier with the hound and spiders and deepstalkers. I refused Solas' healing magic on the fact that it was something I could survive with, no sense in wasting his energy on something that wasn't life-threatening.

Varric glanced up at me over his mug, drinking. "Are you worried about Cassandra?"

"No," was my instant response. I was never worried about Cassandra. God, I missed her, strangely, and it hadn't even been a full day. She was a constant that I had gotten accustomed to having, a word of advice or leadership that I relied on, and now with her gone, I had to think on my feet. It was a life lesson, perhaps, and one that I needed to suffer through if I was going to stick to my conviction of being Herald of Andraste for these people, but that didn't make it easier to deal with in the end.

My lungs gave a gusty sigh. "No, I'm not worried about Cassandra. I trust her and Aclassi to get shit done out in the Hinterlands. We would be going there simply for the crest," I blinked and then wiggled a finger at Varric, who glanced up at me again, frowning, "No, and not just the crest. There were those reports of that Warden wandering around that Leliana wanted me to check. Fuck." My nails ran along the center of my skull in a hard scratch, more and more things to do piling up. I needed a fucking planner to keep up with all of this, because I was starting to unravel at the seams.

Solas stepped over to us, his hands loose at his sides. "Not only that, but according to the latest report, more Rifts are starting to appear around the Hinterlands. They're becoming enough of an issue that the Inquisition can't hold off the influx of demons anymore." Oh, wasn't that just peachy-keen. I leaned back on the driftwood and stared up at Solas for a moment. He raised a silent eyebrow and said nothing, knowing that I had to think through it first before I voiced anything. My eyes flickered over to Bull, the giant had moved on to acquiring something warm to drink, much the same as Varric had, and I glanced between my companions. He was our third, and if he was going to be a part of my inner circle, I needed to be active about including him.

"Hey, The Iron Bull." I called out. The horns swiveled around and his eye found me. I waved him over and with quiet steps he came. Solas gently side-stepped to allow the broad shoulders some space. No need to duck as both he and I were well below the smack-level of his horns. Varric was just a given. The mug steamed in Bull's hand and he stood before me, patient. It was dizzying to be on the driftwood with him looming over me, regardless of the space that was actually between us.

"Opinion time." I announced. Varric set down his mug between his feet on the gravel of the coast and Solas shifted his stance, prepared. Bull took notice and straightened his back to appear more attentive, but it was unnecessary. My assumption was that someone like him was _always_ listening. He just acted this way for the appeasement (and comfort) of others. My throat cleared, "We have several dilemmas. One, this coast. We still have bandits on the loose and few men to spare. Two, the Hinterlands are suffering from an increase in rifts and demon activity, also few men to spare for it. Three, there's a Grey Warden roaming through the Hinterlands that may be able to help us locate other Wardens and deal with demons. Last, that Mercy's Crest."

The Bull's nose flared, his eye focused down on me, "That's a long list, boss."

"You're fucking telling me." I answered with a forced smile. My heels dug into the gravel and I rubbed my cold hands together. "Logic tells me to go to the Hinterlands, because out of all those things I listed, the Hinterlands comes up the most. Warden, crest, demons, and also my horses." There was a beat and a sigh shuddered up from my stomach, my eyes glancing over to my officers as they planned over the requisitions table. "As much as I want to help my men here now, I don't have the things I need. I could get rid of the bandits, and that buys us some time, or brings a retaliation on their heads." With a scan, I searched the faces of my companions, the people who (aside from Bull) and been my closest advisors in this mess.

"I'll go where you go, boss." The Bull answered with a drink from his mug. There was a moment for me, as the world slowed, that I pondered the reply. It made me miss Cassandra all the more, because she never allowed me to be complacent. Bull wouldn't know that, wouldn't know to test for that or push me to make the decisions that needed to be made. His job, at the moment, was to be a mercenary for hire, and follow along, then report back to his people. That was it. Solas, for as much as I loved him, was a guide, not an agitator. Varric pushed me on occasion, but was more like me, complacent if there were others to lead.

My answer came, "That wasn't an opinion, The Iron Bull." It fucking terrified me to my bones that I would challenge his response. The world seemed to pause again, with Varric and Solas stiffening as the words tumbled out of my mouth. Solas was the first to relax as the Bull truly focused down on me, shuddering in my sit on top of the driftwood. Solas was confident he was fast enough to reach me and defend me if needed, but he must've come to the same conclusion I did; Bull wasn't about to hurt me. What drove Bull to say the things he did wasn't because he was testing me, challenging me, but because he was curious.

A spy always had to be curious.

Bull laughed, the mug coming away from his face. "Alright, spit-fire. Personally, I'd tell your men here to keep a low profile, keep their noses out of trouble and report what they find. We pack up and head to the Hinterlands and make sure your Seeker hasn't beheaded half of Redcliffe." Varric relaxed and picked up his mug again, rolling it in his hands as he watched me. My mouth twisted briefly with my mind wandering over Bull's suggestion. A second opinion was good, and when it matched mine, even better. With a nod, I sighed and clapped my hands on my soggy knees.

"To the Hinterlands it is."

\- 0 -

When we came upon the Hinterlands, it was in far better condition than I expected. My soldiers appeared more relaxed, and when I passed through the Crossroads, I was told the Chargers had been busy. Cassandra and the Chargers had arrived three or four days before we did, as they had marched at a record's pace to get back to the Hinterlands. Once here, Cassandra had divided up the mercenary company. Some went out to clear places for camps, others to scout and bring back sitreps, and whatever remained was dealing with pushing back the Templar and Mage combatants that were all over King's Road. My officer saluted me as I dismissed her and my gaze shot up to Bull.

"Holy fuck, dude." My words slipped out uncensored, "Your men do not fuck around, do they?"

A hint of pride snuck into Bull's grin. "Hey, you're paying us good money, we'll move mountains for you, if we can." It brought a laugh up my throat and I nodded, making my way toward the hill where Corporal Vale was tented up. The march for us coming out from the Storm Coast to the Hinterlands had been quiet, as it commonly is. Varric and Solas were accustomed to the fact that travel time was normally my time to reflex and mediate. On occasion, Solas would shuffle up to my side and help me focus, having me read to him (brokenly, and with an extra dash of embarrassment as Bull was within earshot), or he'd tell me stories of the Fade when I became too isolated in my own thoughts.

Bull, perhaps strangely, remained quiet. He spoke on occasion with Varric and a few of the other soldiers that were to be rotated out and had come with us, but never to me directly. I hadn't known if my conversation with him asking for opinions had set a precedent for our relationship, so I would have to check on him soon. Realization struck that the Inquisition and its members were becoming numerous and I was starting to lose track of all the people I needed to stay in touch with; a perfect example was Sera, back in Haven, whom I hadn't spoken to since her recruitment back in Val Royeaux. There was also the Enchanter, Lady Vivienne De Fer, who's party date was approaching quickly.

And then, of course, there was still the matter of The Iron Bull. Aside from the broken pieces of conversation we had shared, I hadn't touched the surface of his character. Or whatever he wanted to present to me. There was still a heavy sense of doubt and disassociation due to the fact that I was still strung up about him being a spy. Leliana and I had discussed it, agreed that despite his position with the Qunari, his pros outweighed the cons that came with him. It was a problem for another day, as we were still on the fast track to _finally_ getting the horses we so desperately needed.

"Corporal Vale!" I hailed as we marched up his hill. The man dismissed the soldier at his side and grinned at me, wide and enthused. It energized me to see someone with a smile rather than the dour look of hopelessness that pulled at their eyes and mouth. I bounced up the last few paces with Varric laughing behind me, his pace sedated like Solas and Bull bringing up the rear of our train. The Corporal held out his arm for me fully and I recognized the gesture. It wasn't one I had done before, but my excitement at effectively assisting their recovery had my hand shoot out to clasp his arm against mine.

I was beaming.

"Herald!" He greeted me, his fingers gripped tight around my forearm for a fast second. "Good to see you again. I heard about your trip to the Storm Coast. I hope the sea air did you some good."

"Before or after I drowned?" I teased. It brought up a laugh and the Corporal's face flushed with his nod. I was on a roll, it seemed. Varric came up at my left with Solas by my right. Bull's shadow appeared over my shoulder and the Corporal's eyes flickered up to him briefly before returning to me. My grin softened on my face, "How goes the recovery, Corporal?"

"Leaps and bounds better, Herald." Vale bowed his head to me. "The company that came in with Seeker Cassandra has made quick work of the gaps we struggled to close."

"Good," my grin returned to my face and I stepped to one side, my hand reaching back to pat Bull's arm, "This is their Commander, The Iron Bull, of the Bull's Chargers." The muscles of his arm under my hand flashed tight for a quick breath and then spontaneously relaxed. Bull probably wasn't expecting me to come into contact with him. Varric was the one that regularly initiated the contact between us, and Solas and I shared nothing more than the brief arm brush from time to time. Poor giant bastard, I probably wasn't fitting anything he had deduced of me.

The Corporal's gaze shifted up to Bull, his shoulders stiff, but the smile was one of relief and he saluted across his chest. "You have my thanks, Iron Bull. Your men have shown an efficiency and decorum much needed in this days."

The horns tipped in acknowledgement. "No need for the fuss, Corporal, my men are just doing their jobs." It was left at that and my hand came away from the Bull's arm. We shared a look, his brow raised in question and with a swift turn of my head, I ignored it. It would come up in discussion, I'm sure, and I was more than happy to wait until that moment. We stayed with the Corporal for a handful of minutes longer as he updated me on the whereabouts of pockets of Templars and mages that had scattered to the winds, as well as where Cassandra could be found.

Lieutenant Aclassi was nearby, we were told, and helping Whittle map out possible locations for the caches of supplies left by the mages. We packed up and moved on, heading to the mouth just before the tunnel that led to King's Road. True to the word, Aclassi was bent over knocking heads with Whittle and a dark haired elven woman, pouring over a map in Whittle's hands. We drew near and it was Bull that cleared his throat. Aclassi looked up and grinned at Bull, then bowed his head to me.

"Your Worship." Aclassi greeted amicably. "I see you made it back in one piece." The elven woman slithered behind Aclassi and kept out of my sight. The move was odd when considered with the fact that she smiled at Bull with a nod and the Qunari commander greeted with a dip of his head. _Must be one of the company, makes sense._

"Herald," Whittle greeted with a little less enthusiasm. There were stashes of boxes and other crates behind Whittle, some of them were already torn open, nails loose and covers broken. Supplies were tossed about within them, bottles, vials, and a few spare blankets. Solas and Varric pulled up behind me, quiet and steady. Bull was along my right side and once more his shadow drifted over me.

"I see you are all hard at work." I pulled a smile for them and turned my attention to Aclassi. "What's the status report?"

Aclassi nodded, back straight. "We've cleared out most of the bandits along the road. There's still a few out to the east up toward Redcliffe that need to be dealt with, but they haven't ventured far, so we've just bordered them for now." Aclassi took the map from Whittle and made his way over to me. My left hand quietly tucked away to the small of my back so as to keep the emerald shimmer out of eyesight or distraction. The map was brandished before my face, one that I recognized that Cassandra had used when we first arrived.

"We have Templars held up here, here, and here." He pointed to a fort not far from the road past the tunnel, a choke point before the bridge to Dennet's, and then another camp a bit further than that. "We've marked them for later, but our scouts tell us that they're heavily armored. Up to the gills, most like." He paused and waited until I glanced up at him with a nod to show that I was following. Bull shifted next to me, silent as my other companions, but the shadow of his head shifted closer. I fought a smile at the odd image of his shadow horns just above my head.

"We're still looking for the caches." Aclassi murmured, one hand holding the map and the other moving to scratch at the back of his neck. "Once we had moved in to start clearing up the riff-raff, they scattered." A snort and a smile forced their way onto my face at Aclassi's use of the word _riff-raff_ and he caught it, chuckling as well with a shrug. "We'll get to those eventually. What our current issue now is that Seeker Cassandra and a patrol of Inquisition are caught on the other side of the bridge."

My gaze shot up to Aclassi's face, "How do you mean? Are they injured?"

"No, not from what we heard." Aclassi was quick to reassure with a shake of his head. "Thing was, we were attempting to take the road, but these Templars and mages just come out of the woodwork like roaches. We got separated and she managed to get past the choke point, but now they're stuck there." My eyes dropped back down to scan the map as I took it from Aclassi's hand. Solas swerved over to my left side as Bull leaned down by my right. Varric shuffled a bit behind us and walked toward Whittle, chatting with the man as we poured over our options.

"There is an option of going up and around." Solas' pinky finger drew a path from the Crossroads going south toward the lake and then over. "It would get us past the Templars without having to deal with them directly, until we're in a better position to oppose them."

"There is sporadic rift that way." Aclassi added, reaching between us and pointing to a place just beyond the hill. "There's also a cabin further up past the path to the lake, _also_ with a rift. It's inhabited, but we haven't been able to reach them with the threat of demons pouring out." I winced and made note of the spots on the map. It was one thing when a rift sat quietly out in the corner of a field and spat demons now and again, but if the reports were accurate and they were producing more than normal, then whoever _was_ there was going to have a rough time of it.

My nose flared with a sigh. "Alright, not completely vetoed, but placed low on the list. Lieutenant, what's this?" I pointed to the far southwest corner of the map, a giant charcoal 'X' was draw over it. Aclassi leaned over to see it and snorted with a hand to run down his face.

"That," he grumbled. "We were trying to figure out how best to get to Seeker Cassandra and the soldiers, but a few residents here state that there's a giant fortress out that way. We don't know if it's inhabited yet, but all signs point to that being a Templar stronghold for now." So not only would taking the long way around cost us more time, but it also held the possibility that we would get caught in a battle we weren't prepared for, against numbers unknown to us. _Crap._

"Krem, what's up here, to the north?" Bull muttered over my head. My shoulders twitched a bit as I had forgotten he was there and that close to me. Bull seemed not to notice, or did, and ignored it. That was fair. My head tilted up just to see the underside of his face before my eyes snapped back down to the map I held. Surprise silenced me as a few of Bull's missing fingers traveled over the northwest side of the map. _How did I miss that before? Horns are fucking distracting._

"Well," Aclassi exhaled roughly, "You've got rocky terrain, a small ravine, and one, two, _three_ rifts that have appeared on occasion all along the way, Chief." Aclassi was far from amused. He puffed his lungs for a moment and shrugged his shoulders with a rub at his temple. "Like I said, Chief, we've been trying to figure out how to get to them without losing some of our own. We might be able to fight past the rifts when they're dormant, but unless they're closed up, we're stuck, too." The hand behind my back clenched hard, the pulse in my palm faint and gentle as it had been since the day the Breach had been shut the first time. No other rifts had been sealed since, as Commander Cullen had forbidden it until I had become more proficient with my weapon and less prone to seizures of panic.

 _Could I do it now?_

For Cassandra? Absolutely. Not only on the simple reason that I had grown to love the other woman for her honor and her straight-forward, no-nonsense attitude, but also because I knew for a solid fact that she would burst head first through any rifts just to get to me, regardless of the knowledge that she would have to do so again upon return. My lungs inhaled from the bottom of my stomach and I handed the map back to Aclassi, as Varric had one of our own in his knapsack. Aclassi blinked at me and took the map with a limp hand.

"We'll go southwest and see what we can find." I drew my left hand up and rubbed at my cheek, letting the Mark flash for a moment. "If there's a cabin there with people trapped, I need them to be safe. We'll skirt the mountain line and scout the stronghold but not engage. We'll bring back reports and hopefully figure out how to clear it out." Aclassi's mouth went firm and he nodded. I turned to Solas and the elf nodded as well, stepping away slightly to allow me to walk past him.

My companions followed me, Varric handed me the map before falling back and I checked it against my surroundings before hoofing it through the Crossroads and back in the direction of the first camp before taking a hard turn to go up the hillside instead. Just above the Crossroads and the road leading out toward the west. I turned my feet toward that, and followed it up with the gentle sound of water guiding me.

"Sweetheart?" Varric called from behind. I peered over my shoulder but did not stop my pace to wait. "You alright?"

"I am." I answered, perhaps I was pushing them a bit hard and I was a little too eager to prove that we could do this. If I stopped to think about it now, I would lose my nerve. I had to push. The path was winding and drifted along over a rocky patch of earth before curving again, kissing along a small lake and waterfall. With a blink, I hurried toward the clearing and scouted it. Solas and Bull pulled up along either side of me and both men looked over the expanse of land with a critical eye.

"You guys thinking what I'm thinking?" I asked, my gaze flashed between Bull and Solas. Varric wandered over toward the edge of the clearing and with curiosity, I did, too. A hiccup ricocheted through my ribs and hit my diaphragm as my gaze peered down the sudden slope. Rock climbing had been a hobby of mine, to be sure, but the sheer drop down to the ragged edge below _with_ patches of scorched earth and glittering eyes unnerved me. The fighting must've been intense to leave those scars.

"Good be a good place for a camp." Bull murmured as he wandered over to us. He peered down as well and looked out further, whistling. "If it weren't for the bloodshed, it'd be a great view." My anxiousness was shattered and a snort flooded my nose. Unwillingly amused, my gaze flashed up to his face and narrowed. The best he could give me was a grin. My back turned to the scenery and the map was back in my hands.

"Varric, you got charcoal or something?" I asked. Instantaneously it was produced and placed in my hand. I circled the place on the map were we had come and traced a path to be reminded of it later. Bull had been right, it was an invaluable vantage point and a good place for a secluded camp that could oversee the comings and goings of the road below us. The charcoal and map were pocketed and rolled up, placed away in my oil-cloth bag, and away we went. It was a few more minutes of travel past Calenhad's Foothold, following the sounds of water. We came upon the water source of the waterfall that bled into our marked-off campsite, Lake Luthias.

My gaze scanned over the vision, watching the high sun glance off the surface of the water, broken bridges and decaying docks decorating the edges of the late. We trudged along the path, the men amused as they waited for me when I spotted elfroot and blood lotus to pick up for our healers. From my left there was a towering waterfall with a cave system behind it, shadowed from the daylight. My pause was short to take the time and mark it off on the map as well for later investigation.

"Are those people over there?" Varric murmured. Charcoal poised in my hand, I ducked my head and pattered over to his side. There was a small cabin or storage home that sat at the very edge of the opposite of our shore. A handful of people stood near, shields and swords in their hands. _Odd_ , once more the charcoal and map were placed away. My hand raised and waved to have the men follow me, my finger pressed to my lips to keep them quiet. _They don't look like Inquisition or Chargers. What are they doing all the way out here?_

We scurried along south of the lake's edge and crossed over the broken, bobbing bridge to reach the other side. As we approached, I picked up the sounds of a stern, echoing voice. It was reminiscent of the presence Commander Cullen had when he barked at the recruits (myself included) during our training. Everything about the scene was odd, as there was only a handful of men ( _young boys?_ ) and one older gentlemen that paced around them. My company and I straightened from our attempts at stealth and we stayed back amongst the trees, listening.

Solas perked up. "Jaime, could this be the Warden?" I blinked, wondering for a moment how he had known about that until I remembered I had mentioned it back on the Storm Coast. _Once again, so many things to remember._ My lips dripped into a frown with my arms crossed against my chest, a shoulder dug into the tree I hid behind.

"Maybe?" I whispered back. My shoulders gave a half-hearted shrug. "Doesn't hurt to find out." With a turn of my heel I rolled my shoulder and chest along the trunk of the tree and trekked toward the rundown cabin, the men following at a further distance to keep some element of escape, except for Bull. The man had it in his head that he really was going to be a bodyguard, because there wasn't a time yet that I turned to spy him further than the vision of the corner of my eye. My hand came up and gestured for him to wait, pointing behind me.

It was hilarious to see his nose flare as he obeyed, shoulders stiff.

"Remember how to carry your shields." The broad figure commanded. He was taller than I, perhaps just past the height of Solas but under Cullen, and darkened all around his edges. He deeply reminded me of the old nature survival shows I had seen back in my old world; rough, rugged, and sharp six ways to Sunday. The boys (because now upon closer inspection I could see they were younger than I was) watched with honed focus, their backs ram-rod straight and knees bent to pounce. "You're not hiding, you're _holding!_ Otherwise it's useless!"

 _Oh yes,_ I snickered, making my way closer, _he and Cullen would get along famously, I think._

"Excuse me. Blackwall?" My voice carried over the small clearing. The man turned on me with the readiness of a snake. I paused, hands raised submissively. "Warden Blackwall?" He prowled up to me, face gone dark. Panic flared up in my chest and gripped my heart, tunneling my vision. There was commotion behind me, a break of something, and then a snap and a snarl I didn't recognize. My body wouldn't turn, though, as there was still the threat of the bearded man that approached me.

"You're not -" He snarled, shield and sword at the ready. "How do you know my name? Who sent -" My spine petrified as his eyes shifted off my face and his legs dipped to lunge at me. Thankfully, I didn't scream, but my eyes shut tight as a thud rang through his shield by my ear into my head. There was another howl of action and my brain sped up to assess that we were being attacked. My eyes opened and the man glared down at me, bared teeth hidden behind his beard.

"That's it." He glared over my shoulder at the attackers and then swiftly brought it back to me. "Help or get out, we're dealing with these idiots first!" The shield came down away from my head and he left me, stranded in my own indignation. _I don't know what's more insulting, the fact that he's ignoring the maul on my back or that I was indirectly labeled an idiot? Of all the fucking nerve._ I didn't even bother to raise my hand for my maul, now that the present situation was clear for me. Bandits sneaking up at the most unfortunate time with a mildly inconvenienced Qunari Commander to greet them from the trees.

The young boys handled themselves well enough and knew how to stay out of the path of my company as Solas dropped a barrier on the three main fighters; The Iron Bull, himself, and the assumed Warden Blackwall. The fight was over in seconds, Bull had managed to curtail a few of them before the ambush and Solas had them dropped from cold and exhaustion soon after. Varric and Bianca barely shot off an arrow that caught the eye socket of startled bandit.

Leisurely, with all the confidence of a minx (that I was faking, but seriously, who the hell calls someone an idiot they just met?) I walked over and waited, leaned on a cocked hip with my arms crossed. As the last of the bodies dropped, the Bull made a scan of the area and spotted me. A flick of his good eye over my lazy posture and he smirked, marching over to me. He paced around a tree next to me, past the trunk, and came to shadow me from behind, every inch the bodyguard at my back. Solas and Varric ambled over and took up either side and we waited as the bearded man dismissed his small collection of soldiers. _Conscripts._

The man turned back to us, eyed us warily and the image we presented, before his eyes focused on me. "You are certainly no farmer. Why do you know my name? Who are you?"

"You know, I appreciate the fact that you stopped an arrow from piercing my skull," my eyes narrowed, arms still crossed over my chest. " _But_ , even the orphanage taught me better manners than that." It changed nothing of his expression. He waited, impatiently stiff and coiled and it was a stand-off. It was a strange, almost exhilarating sensation to be surrounded by my company and watch their shadows play across the ground, sizing each other up. Not that I was power hungry by any means, but there was a certain satisfaction to be had when the people who stood with you had complete confidence in your ability. I wasn't sure what ability that was yet, but the point was made.

"I know _your name_ ," I relented, "because I'm an agent of the Inquisition sent to find you." There was a pause and his face was stone cold, Solas shot me a look that wasn't longer than a second. I was getting slightly better at lying as long as it was just omitting certain truths. My gaze flickered over Blackwall's face. He wasn't giving me a fucking inch. _Not the customer service type, are you?_ "I'm investigating whether the disappearance of the Wardens has anything to do with the murder of the Divine." _That_ riled him.

"Maker's balls, the Wardens and the Divine?" He growled. He paced closer to me and there was a shift in weight as Bull stepped closer to my back, glaring down from the top of my head. It was enough to give the Warden pause and he spared us an extra look. "That can't - no, you're _asking_ , so you don't really know." His gaze was intense and added to the description of him I had before; being _sharp_ razor edge with no holster. "First off, I didn't know they disappeared. But we do that, right? No more Blight, job done, Wardens the first thing forgotten. But one thing I'll tell you: no Warden killed the Divine, our position isn't political."

"Easy," I soothed, a hand held out to stop him, "I'm not here to accuse, not yet. I'm just here to find out what happened. Look at it from my side, the Divine dies, the world goes into chaos, and then the Wardens disappear _en masse._ " It placated him slightly and his shoulders relaxed beneath the padded armor he wore. He sighed and ran a hand down his beard.

"I haven't seen another Warden for months." He muttered. It was the first piece of real information, a stepping stone to repairing whatever this mess of a meet-up was, "I travel alone, recruiting. Not much interest because the Archdemon is a decade dead, and no need to conscript because there's no Blight coming." That was if my luck held out. Last thing I needed was a Blight to flare up as we were dealing with this hell-mouth. He leaned away from me, his guard softening. "Treaties give wardens the right to take what we need, who we need. These idiots forced this fight, so I _conscripted_ their victims."

"I'm not arguing against helping people." I replied, feeling the need to defend against his jab.

His mouth turned heavy with a slight frown. "As long as you know that they had to do what I said. I told them to stand. They won't need me next time." I seriously was not going to argue against any veteran teaching the young pups to pick up a sword. I would hope he'd teach them discretion as well as patience. The Inquisition barely had enough energy and people to deal with Templars and mages, we couldn't deal with a sudden influx of wayward, newly hatched swordsmen.

"I understand." This conversation was turning into something else. I may have hit a nerve with my faint accusation of the Wardens being murderers.

Blackwall gave me a nod. "Grey Wardens can inspire, make you better than you think you are." So I did hit a nerve. My arms unfolded from around my chest and the men relaxed in their stances. A huff escaped me and I took a few cautious steps toward the Warden, treating him much like a cornered animal after the number of times he bared his teeth at me.

"Could you clarify something for me? I wasn't aware that Wardens could just take whatever they wanted." I asked, hoping to break the ice as I stood closer to him. Varric kept his eye on the Warden, Solas looked patiently disinterested and wandered a bit toward the edge of the water, picking at the useful plants near there. The Iron Bull's shadow remained behind me, encasing my own with his frame. He went ignored as Blackwall focused on me, his gaze much more human and patient.

"It's complicated. If there's a Blight, everyone has to help the effort to fight it. The treaties are ancient." He answered evenly. My crash-course history with the Blight and the Wardens had been exactly that; just enough to make it sound like I knew what the hell I had survived through at "sixteen years old." Blackwall shifted and placed a hand on the pommel of his sword stuck in the ground, "Of course, outside of actual Blights, they're as binding as a clever tongue can make it."

I snorted. Certainly Josephine would know what to do with those if she ever got her hands on them. "Do you have any idea where the other Wardens could have gone?" I pressed. Josephine and her clever tongue aside, Leliana had sent me to find the whereabouts of these Wardens and I wasn't about to go home empty handed.

Blackwall shrugged. "Maybe they returned to our stronghold at Weisshaupt? That's in the Anderfels, a long way north." He amended slightly with a nod to me. _Right. Orphanage. No travel experience._ I drew a steadying inhale as he continued, "I don't really know. Can't imagine why they'd all disappear at once, let alone where they'd disappear to."

 _Fuck. That gives me shit all._

"Why haven't you gone missing like the rest of them?" I asked pointedly. It was odd that out of all the Wardens there could potentially be in Orlais and Ferelden, only this one remained. How could he have possibly missed the memo? Surely they had some way to stay in contact with each other.

Blackwall stiffened and narrowed his eyes at me. "Well, maybe I was going to. Or maybe there's a new directive, but a runner got lost or something. My job was to recruit on my own. Planned to stay that way for months. Years." Restraint. I needed it badly. My neck was cold and the exhale that shot through my nose was hard. I hated disappointing The Hydra with empty, fruitless excursions. _At least I can be on my way to help Cassandra._

"Welp," my lips popped and my right hand rubbed at my temple, "It's been a pleasure, Warden Blackwall, but that helped me not at all." With a glance back at Bull, I rolled my shoulders and waved to Varric and Solas to follow. This was still leading on the path to get around to Cassandra, but I needed to head back to camp and send a bird out to Leliana as soon as possible.

"Inquisition," Blackwall's voice traveled up behind us, " _Agent_ , did you say? Hold a moment." My feet paused and I peered between Bull and Solas, Blackwall made his way up just within a few feet, the presence of Bull keeping him at bay. "The Divine is dead, and the sky torn. Events like these, thinking we're absent is almost as bad as thinking we're involved."

"... well. It does look that way, yeah." I nodded, my voice quiet.

Blackwall winced, but pushed on. "If you're trying to put things right, maybe you need a Warden. Maybe you need _me._ " I pondered him, stalwart and grizzly. His expression was pinched over his mouth, waiting for my assessment.

"The Inquisition needs all the support it can get, but what can _one_ Grey Warden do?" I asked, curious. Ultimately I wasn't going to turn him away, but if he was the last of what we had, I didn't want to endanger him either. From what Leliana and Cullen had told me, the path to being a Warden was smothered in mystery, passed on by other Wardens to their initiates. Even so.

"Save the fucking world, if pressed." He growled. It startled a laugh out of me, one I quickly smothered with my right hand. His nose scrunched and he bowed his head in apology. "Ma'am. Look, maybe fighting demons from the sky isn't something I'm practiced at, but show me someone who is. And like I said, there are treaties. Maybe there isn't a Blight, but it's bloody well a disaster. Someone will honor them. _Being_ a Warden means something to a lot of people."

 _Josephine will find someone, I know that much._ He was earnest and rough around all his edges. The desperation in his voice made it clear he wanted to _help,_ wanted to do something, and was far more eager to throw his blade at the demons than most others I had come across. I sobered briefly, a stark realization coming to mind; he would have made a far better Herald than I.

Sadly, I smiled at him and bowed my head briefly. "Warden Blackwall, the Inquisition accepts your offer."

"Good to hear." Relief flooded his bones and he loosened from his hardened stance. "We both need to know what's going on, and perhaps I've been keeping to myself for too long." He nodded his head at me, a hard line to his mouth, stern and steady. "This Warden walks with the Inquisition."

Varric snorted from behind, his face popping up near my hip. "So. Is anyone going to tell him he swore at the Herald of Andraste?"

"I did _what?_ " Blackwall choked, voice rough in surprise. His eyes bounced between all of us before they landed, almost in shame, on me. I grinned and raised my left hand in a wave, the Mark an easy glow that pulsed in my palm and fluttered under my fingers. Blackwall paled and cleared his throat hard, his head tipped low in another bow.

"Herald." He grunted, chastened. My hand whipped out and smacked an extremely amused Varric on the shoulder as he made a hasty retreat behind me. Blackwall straightened, "You'll have to forgive me, it's been a while since I've been in polite company."

It was Bull's turn to snort, highly entertained. "Don't worry about it, Warden. The Herald's got a mouth on her that would make a sailor hesitate."

"Excuse you," I muttered with a jab of my elbow into his stomach (that's as far as I could reach, yikes), he twitched slightly, chuckling. I smiled winningly at Blackwall and ignored all of my companions. "Jaime Welton, and really, it was a pleasure. If you'd like - wait a second." There was a pulse from my hand, deep and sharp. It was quick, a flash out of the corner of my eye, my voice dropped as a flare shot from the ruined fort in Calenhad's Foothold. My hand lit up, burning to my bones.

A rift had just torn itself open.

"Change of plans," I said with desperation choked at the base of my tongue. I hadn't realized I started running toward the green light, the Mark on my hand pulsing hard and whispers echoing through my head.

 _It's now or never._


	11. ACT I: Draw The Curtain

**Running On Empty:** _Draw The Curtain_

* * *

Where the instinct had come from to bolt _toward_ the rift instead of away from it, I wasn't sure. Fear had lanced itself through my lungs into my heart, though I knew the terror was due to something else and not the fact that a rift had torn the air right before us. I could _hear_ it, I could hear the rift rip through the Veil before I saw it, the glow of the Fade pouring from the cut only a confirmation after I knew with certainty that it was there.

It was close.

I could sense the ripple through my hand, a leash bound deeply in the muscles of my arm, tugging at my tendons. The whispers of voices and echoed words trembled in my eardrums and stoked my panic, the flames of it drying my throat and searing my lungs closed. They were a cacophony of agonized voices, terrified and unruly.

Whatever was pouring though, it was horrified just as much as I. My company, with the addition of Warden Blackwall, stormed behind me. They were following my frantic gallop to the rift, but we were too late. The opening shattered in on itself and screamed, maw going wide and twisting in anguish, whips and tendrils of the Fade lashed out and clung to the ground.

For the briefest of moments, with a clarity I did not expect, I saw them; _spirits_. Seconds before they were torn from the Fade and jettisoned into the living world and my heart shuddered in my chest, tears springing to my eyes as they shrieked in rage and distress, their ghostly forms mutilated by reality. My hand thrummed with pain in my palm and it came up for my maul.

"Keep them off of me!" I hollered to my group. Solas and Varric had seen me seal rifts before, once a lifetime ago when we traveled up the mountain path toward the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The Iron Bull and Warden Blackwall would get a crash course introduction to being alongside the 'famed' Herald of Andraste. The thunderous pace of Bull could be heard behind me, Blackwall swore violently and arrows sailed past my shoulder as lightning struck the demons that appeared.

 _Game on!_

My readiness to dive into the fight was fueled with a volatile cocktail of horror and rage. There was no telling if it was my own or that which poured from the spirits that were trapped on this mortal realm with us, vibrating through my palm and numbing my arm. The maul swept from my back and slammed into a howling wraith that had appeared next to me, dragging itself up from the pockets of Fade around us.

The spirit shrieked and was yanked back into the Fade. My arms trembled, the roaring heartbeat in my palm distracted me from the fight, the screams and sobbing cries of the demons sparked between my ears and made concentration difficult. I hadn't sensed this last time, not when I closed the smaller rifts before getting to the big one -

 _No, but I_ _ **had**_ _,_ my brain supplied quietly, hidden behind the chaos and pain. _I had sensed it, and it brought me to tears and unconsciousness._ I sincerely hoped it wouldn't do it again this time. Another heavy swing of my maul and I caught the back of a writhing, cloaked demon, the same type that had come upon me when I first witnessed them. Its screams echoed with a pained ring in my head, my thoughts scattered.

When enough of them had been dispatched, I turned with my maul's head to the ground, supporting my weight with my right arm as my left hand rose over my head. The rift snarled at me, as it had done before, vicious and incensed at my audacity at commanding it. The tendrils of green light bit into my arm, past my skin, and _heaved_. My wrist rolled and I gripped the pull of the Fade and took a hefty step back.

This time, something was different. _This time_ the Fade didn't close at first try. Something behind the shreds of the Veil _bellowed_ and came surging forth, knocking my hand away with a monstrous smack. My body was shoved back and I was struggling to get on my knees. Bull was in front of me instantaneously with Blackwall soon by his side. I was gasping, my chest felt devoid of any organs and everything was coiled tight within a ghostly, unrelenting grip.

"It's n-not over!" I screamed at Solas. Alarm struck his face and he brought his staff down hard, a barrier flared over us three closest to the rift. Bull turned to me and gripped my arm with a savage hold, his diabolical strength wrenching me up to my feet. I fought him, weakly, to get loose.

"What are you _doing?_ " He growled at me, the Fade rippled again behind him and I spied another wisp of spirits pounding against the Veil. My arm was ripped free by Solas, a cast of lesser healing shoved into my spine as he pushed me forward, back the way I was had come. Blackwall and Bull were behind us, snarling in disagreement.

"The rift was not closed!" Solas snapped at them, his staff whirling in his hold. There was another pulse, a beat through my left arm and I reached for my maul with trembling fingers. "It was a tear - she broke it open so she may seal it properly, stop gawking and be ready for the next wave!" Is that what happened? Would I have to do this with every rift that we encountered? The idea of it exhausted me and self-doubt curdled in my stomach. _Maybe I'm not ready_.

It was a bit too late for that thought.

Another violent surge and a fresh wave of demonized spirits flooded through the rip. My maul's weight had my arms scorched with pain in each passing swing. All those months of training with the recruits and the Commander felt for naught as I endeavored to stay on my feet. Each breath rattled through my ribs and my stomach desperately protested the stitch that appeared next to it.

Again, my hand rose above my head when Varric cleared a spot for me, I stared as the Veil trembled as we fought for dominance, the spirits around me disintegrating. A breath, a heartbeat later, and I pulled with whatever I had left. The screams echoed through my ears as the rift sealed and blew out, slapping me down in one final, vindictive push.

I couldn't get up to my knees. Sweat poured from my forehead and down my neck, my armor burned and felt seared to my skin. Shadows passed over me and my arms shook as I attempted to right myself into a sit. Solas was on me as soon as I looked up, an arm around my shoulders to hold me steady once I was upright. Varric had a flask in my hand and I drank it without question.

My face twisted at the bitterness, "Th-that is not water, Varric Tethras."

"After what I just saw, you need something stronger than water." He murmured and waited until I took another sip before capping the flask and _then_ handed me a water-skin. I barely remembered to take small sips so I wouldn't be sick, my body shivering despite the heat that bubbled from the inside of my core.

"What in the world was that?" Blackwall exhaled, stunned. He walked near me and his knees hesitated before he dropped down to kneel beside me, his expression wrecked with worry. "What happened?"

"I think we would all like to know." Solas said darkly, looking over my face, his arm still around my shoulders. "Jaime, that -"

"It w-was the same." I groused, my throat shredded and I couldn't understand why. Had I been screaming? "S-same as when I sealed the Breach - not like the small ones. Th-those... I think those were just tears, b-but these?"

"What she talking about, Chuckles?" Varric muttered. Bull was stiff just beyond the outer semi-circle that was formed by the other three men. My left hand pulsed and something whispered, a dark, heavy intent filled it and weighed my palm with lead. I blinked down at it, recognizing it briefly as the same sensation I had felt with Cassandra, angry and resentful at the death of the Divine.

But this intent was deeper, swelled lower against my psyche. A swift, biting emotion. It drew from one of the men around me, but I couldn't place it. It would have made sense if it mimicked anger, but it didn't. This was peaceful, purposeful, and controlled. A unilateral intent to end me, to kill me where I sat. I looked up and my eyes were drawn to Bull. The moment our gazes locked, the emotion fled from my hand and the Mark fell quiet.

Profound horror struck me as my mind jumped through my thoughts; _he'd kill me if I posed a threat with the Mark._ Our conversation rang through my thoughts, clear as the sunrise; _the Qunari want to know if they need to plan an invasion to stop the whole damn world from falling apart._ I was a part of that, connected to the rifts and the Breach and considered part of that danger. The eyes were the windows to the soul and he was schooled at playing his emotions to suit the situation. His expression had gone neutral but my terror remained latched behind my lungs and up along my spine.

 _Could I pose a threat?_ _I'm not a mage, Solas said - how could I be possessed?_

"Jaime." Solas' voice rang in my ear and I turned to him, sharp and eyes slightly wild. He gripped my shoulders to anchor me. "Breathe. You always forget to breathe when it's most important. Please. Tell me, what happened?" I suddenly didn't want to, I didn't want to give Bull any more ammunition to use against me, to send to his people, to make it seem like I was struck with madness. Something must've flashed through my eyes because Solas nodded and held my face in his hands.

"Breathe, Jaime. You're safe." He seemed to have caught my fear and his hands dropped again to my arms. I swallowed and raised the Mark to view it, now with the rift gone, it had lulled into a dormant state in my palm.

"I - it felt like the original one. The Breach." My eyes closed and my hand clenched, I wanted to will away the ice that settled in my stomach. "I could hear them, the spirits, the demons. I could hear the rift before it tore open. I t-tried to get to it before it did, I'm s-sorry." A hiccupped sob came up my throat and embarrassment flooded me. I had wanted to be braver, to be stronger, to face these things like a _Herald_ and not Jaime, but I couldn't. I knew now that I most _certainly_ could not.

"You could hear it open?" Varric murmured, awed. I nodded and rubbed angrily at my eyes, as if I could push the tears back into my sockets. Varric's voice crumbled, "Oh, sweetheart..."

"Just _s-stop_ ," I snapped. Sympathy was the last thing I needed. All these emotions warred in me and I felt the urge to vomit just to be rid of them. It was a roll-coaster trip that I had _not_ agreed to ride, that was for fucking sure. "J-just... don't do that, okay? I'm still f-fucking dealing with the a-aftermath."

"Aftermath?" The Bull questioned quietly. My gaze shot back up to him and I glared, throwing the sun's intensity behind it. He paused to study me and briefly something flashed behind his eyes before he relaxed, his head tilted. "Give us a play-by-play, boss."

"I c-can feel the shift in the Veil just before it's about to b-break," I coughed, trying to clear my throat as I choked back my tears, "It's in the M-Mark, I can feel it pulse before something happens." My eyes were finally cleared and I tipped my head back to look at the sky, shuddering down to my knees, my back straight from the slump I had when I sat up. "The closer I get t-to the rift, the more I can h-hear them - I can hear the spirits scream before they're pulled through."

"Pulled?" Blackwall pinned Solas with a narrowed look. "What does she mean by 'pulled'?"

"I'm right f-fucking here, asshat." I growled with lowering my head, annoyed that both he and Varric spoke as if I was ignorant. Blackwall's hesitant eyes settled on me and then looked away with a nod in apology. Solas sighed and moved to stand, holding a hand out for me. Grateful, I snagged it in my own and hauled my ass up onto my feet. Varric patted my back awkwardly and remorse swelled under my breast at having snapped at him. I placed a hand on his shoulder with more weight than I meant to, but he bore it.

"Not every spirit wants to be in this world." Solas started, his voice even despite the tremor I could feel in his hand. "The rift in a Veil... think of it like a hole in a bucket. Once there, everything from within spills out, regardless of want or desire. Jaime's is the hand that covers that hole and fixes it." It was a simplistic explanation, but it would have to do. On my feet and with Varric's shoulder to support me, I felt less dizzy and prone to vomit. I swallowed my tongue back and reached out to clap Blackwall's shoulder. To his credit, he didn't flinch under the touch and looked at me, worry still etched in the lines of his face.

I smiled for him, as best I could. "Sorry about the name-calling. Are you sure you still wanna be here? Not too late to back out."

"No," he replied swiftly, his hand coming up to clasp mine on his shoulder, "I stand with you, Herald. After that... I can't sit back knowing what I do now." My hand patted his shoulder and arm as I nodded. With a glance around, I found my maul and headed over to it, but Bull reached it first. He bent to retrieve it and took a few heavy steps toward me, the handle out for me to reach. My limbs hesitated for a second or so and then moved to take my weapon and swing it onto my back. The world fell back into place. Months ago, I would have never believed how much I would come to rely on the weigh of a weapon.

"We need to talk." Bull murmured down to me. My head tilted up and we held a stare before I nodded and proceeded to walk my way back up toward Lake Luthias. Blackwall followed without question. Solas and Varric paused only for a moment before they too came into my shadow, silent and watchful. Bull took up the rear.

\- 0 -

The path past Lake Luthias was narrow and twisting. Unfortunately, we were camp in the little ravine just before _another_ choke point that was filled to the brim with armored warriors and a splattering of archers. Two of them were nearly as big and bulky as Bull and had mauls that looked twice the size of mine. My body was still shaking slightly as I huddled against a rock. Solas returned from his scout ahead and stepped over toward me.

"There seems to be about eight to ten in total." He said, drawing in a patch of dirt in front of me. "Four archers, three or four swordsmen, and the last two are those armored brutes. No shields, but heavy armor and reinforced mauls." He drew out their choke up, showing where the fencing blocked off and where they stood along the defenses.

"Four against ten? Heavily fortified?" Varric murmured warily. "Would it be better to go down through the crossing instead?"

"It's just as bad." I replied, weary. "From what Lieutenant Aclassi told us, there was the fighting _in_ the road, plus the fort, plus the choke point. It wouldn't be any better."

"We also don't know what lies beyond them, here." Blackwall muttered. "They could just be the forward party, and past them the actual camp with more like them." My hands came up to my temples and I dug the heels of my palms into them, my fingers gripped into my loose hair. I closed my eyes and ducked my head, trying to think.

"This is too secluded." I finally answered after a beat or two. With a pull of my neck, my head came up and I leaned on an arm, a palm holding my chin. "If we fight them here and manage to get past them - Blackwall is right, there could be more and we'd be trapped."

"At the very least out by the crossing, we have soldiers that could help." Solas nodded. "Shall we turn around, then, and head that way?" My eyes closed again as I nodded. My knees shook briefly as my weight centered on them. We trudged back the way we had come, past the lack and down the hill of the foothold. Shame bubbled up and left a bile taste in my mouth. It was ridiculous, but I felt as if the stares of the men around me bore into my back.

I was tired, suddenly. My shoulders ached and my spine was going to bend in on itself. Perhaps it was my anxiety acting up, or the immediate disappointment I felt at having failed not only Leliana, but now Cassandra. _One step forward, two steps back._ We arrived back at the Crossroads and Lieutenant Aclassi met us at the mouth of the tunnel just before we were going to step through.

"Your Worship," Aclassi exhaled, having run from the top of the hill where Corporal Vale had stationed himself. My company paused and I turned a weary eye to the lieutenant, another forced smile on my lips. With a nod from me, he continued, "There's been word from Scout Harding back at Haven. Your spymaster has sent a message about your lost patrol." Wonderful. With a deep stretch of my ribs and diaphragm, I inhaled and nodded.

"Thank you, Lieutenant." He was about to turn away when I caught his eye with a raised hand. "Can you do me a favor? Can you send a message to Leliana that the Warden in question has been found, and will be returning to Haven with us. No information on the others." Blackwall tossed me a sideways glance as Aclassi nodded and dashed off, another notch in the list of things I had given him to do. _No sense in feeling sorry for myself if they've got to work; so do I._

The back of my skull was on fire and there was a pressure building up behind my ears along my hairline. Stress, perhaps, or a combination of it and whatever residual shit had gotten to me from closing the Rift. I wasn't ready for this fight we were about to undertake to get to Cassandra, but I was going to do it, god damn it. We traveled through the tunnel and reached the mouth of it. Looking up, I could spy the clearing high on the hillside where the little lake bled out from Lake Luthias.

"Ready, sweetheart?" Varric asked from beside me, his voice jarring me from my thoughts. My throat was rough and my tongue had the weight of a lead hook at its tip, but I nodded regardless. Falling back or faltering now wasn't an option. Solas shot me a look and tipped his head, ready to follow my lead.

"Nope," my word popped from my mouth, "but the world won't wait for me." My knees hiked up against gravity and we jogged out onto the road. We were immediately beset by a group of rogue Templars and my maul discouraged one or two of them, only to allow a third swordsmen fly at me from the front. Anger rose in my chest, tempered and exhausted, a hot coal after the flames had died out.

Viciously, I brought my maul down and smacked his sword hand. The clang rang out and he hissed at me and yet, it didn't frightened me as it had once before. I met his gaze evenly, my limbs numb from pain and feebleness, and it was like a weird, violent dream to spin and watch my maul catch his hip and chew through his bones. He dropped before me and without a though, my leg shot out and I stepped on his knee, shattering it.

My maul snarled down on his head and silenced his scream. Something in the back of my mind was hollow and howling, _this isn't me_ , but nothing I did to push against the firm film of disassociation and disconnect worked. My body carried on with full apathy to my internal, emotional blight. Before I knew it, my armor was sprayed with flecks of blood, my maul covered in mud and my feet brought me to a stop just behind the road.

"We should move on," Solas ran up next to me, his expression stern and tight, worry in his eyes. "We are wasting time, we will only restore order once an alliance as been established." My head tipped in a listless nod and we pressed on past the fort. I eyed it heavily, knowing we would have to come back and clear it out to remove the Templars hold on the road. Ahead of us was the choke point that Aclassi mentioned, Templars lined along the defense.

A few of them were armed with heavy tower shields, an enemy of mine when it came to training with the Commander and the recruits. I stepped around Blackwall and Bull to allow their brute forces pave the way through as Varric and Solas peppered the combatants from a distance. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied two others, their armor glinted in the sunlight. The ridiculous, stupid move was to rush them myself, to take them with my maul and have them kiss the dirt, but wisdom got the better of me and restrained my knees.

 _You're running around like a chicken with her head fucking gone,_ my internal panic hissed at me. _You're trying to prove something no one is asking you to provide evidence for!_ Guilt had overwhelmed me and the horror that I posed a danger to my companions still gnawed at my heart. I wanted to show that I wasn't useless, that I could stand as tall as the rest of them.

 _How can it be months after I've gotten here and I still feel like a child?_ People still had to come to my aid, Varric still had to act like a paternal figure and Cassandra looked exasperated with me half the time. Blackwall more than likely thought I was mad from my feet to my head and _Bull_.

I had never felt killer intent before. Never had it crawled under my skin and strangled me. I thought it was just a throw-away term in movies and novels to explain away emotions that couldn't be real. I had disconnected again, I realized with a start, a sword coming up to my face. A body lay dead at my feet and my companions behind me. I was losing touch with my consciousness and the fright made me ditch my current opponent with a weird duck and weave. I rolled and my maul crashed into his back. He stumbled, his tower shield covering half of him, but not the half I was aiming for.

My maul felt like it connected with the back of his head like a feather, and then the ricochet rocketed up my arms as his helmet was forced into the ground, hitting a rock. My feet stumbled as he also laid dead at my feet. Solas and Bull contended with the other Templar and my knees wobbled as I made my way to the camp they had.

I collapsed on a chest, my maul's head between my feet and the pommel covered by both my hands as my forehead came down to rest on my knuckles. The world spun slowly, tilting like I was about to tip off the edge of the world. My lungs took long drags of air but nothing stayed to alleviate my distress and my heavy-headedness.

Promptly, cold water was dumped over my head and I came up sputtering.

"Good morning." Blackwall deadpanned. "Back with the living, are you?"

A laugh was startled out of me, "F-fuck you, dude. What the hell? Where did you get a buck of water?"

"I didn't get it." He teased and pointed to Bull. "He did." The Bull snorted indignantly, catching my eye with a look of curiosity. Another laugh came up and my hand wiped back my hair, a sense of relief dripping over me with the water. Both men looked infinitely more relaxed as my body released its tension. They must've sensed the change in me as much as I had.

"And where'd you get the nerve to dump it over my head?" The heat of my words was lost in my grin and Blackwall smirked, shrugging lightly. Bull shuffled on his feet briefly, nose flared and horns dipped. Was he embarrassed? No, couldn't be.

"You're a bit small to be intimidating. I figured I'd have a pretty good chance of outrunning you." He crossed his arms as Solas and Varric came up the hill, they had taken the time to loot some of the bodies. I ignored the jab with a roll of my eyes and a shake of my head. Guilt peppered me for a second before Varric smiled at me, giddy with whatever her found.

"What's got you so happy?" I asked. A piece of parchment was shoved into my view. I took it and then looked over it at Varric, straight-faced. "Can't read, remember?"

"Oh, fuck me, give it here." He snatched it back, leaving me barking with laughter, and easily shoved it into Solas' nose. "It's a list of instructions to the stronghold out south of here. We can turn that in to the Chargers and let loose the Seeker on them." Solas primly accepted the parchment as he had become our designated clue holder and folded it away.

"She's not a dog, Varric." The back of my wrist wiped at my brow, my shoulders shuddered with the cold touch of water, but it helped me focus and felt nice going down my neck. Maybe that's what I needed, a bath or something to wash off the stress. With Blackwall's offered arm, I stood up and shook myself out.

"Well, I'd never say it to her face." Varric grinned at me.

I pushed at his nose as I walked passed him to the broken bridge, "Monster. C'mon. We got past the choke point, but I still don't see Cassandra." My maul was returned to my back and after a moment to mark the bridge on the map, we crossed it. Bull didn't even bother with the bridge, he merely waded across the river. Blackwall looked tempted, but instead leapt across with Solas.

Varric paused and for a moment, I wondered if he'd ask to be tossed. I snickered at the idea and he shot me a dirty look. Decided, he leapt across as well. My boots were good and with a bit of balancing I scuttled my way over. The hills seemed to split down the middle, a path curved in further to a field, but before we continued across, the cry of crows caught my ear.

"Poor sods." Varric murmured as he spotted them as well. We wandered over and with few snaps of my fingers, the birds flew off and left the body in peace. The clothes were tattered and the skin had rotted, maggots in eye sockets and mouth. My nose pinched and I held my breath to quickly snag the knapsack next to it. It held a note and some items that Solas took to inspect.

"Odd." He said, turning the parchment over. "Very odd. It's... legible, but barely. I'll deduce more when we're back at Haven." With a shrug I accepted the answer and we marched on down the path. Howls echoed along the hillside and with a quick glance at my company, I hurried along the path. Just at the crest of a patch of grass that led off into the farmland was a pack of wolves.

They turned on us and lunged. Bianca's arrow was the only thing that stopped the first one from catching my knees in a bite. I rolled as quickly as I could away, going ass over shoulder as Bull's maul came down and crushed the skull of the next wolf. With a gasp I came up but had no time to snatch my maul from my back and had to scurry away again. Solas dropped a barrier over my head and I took the bite to the hand, hissing.

"The fuck is it with canines chewing on me!" I growled. My arm swung hard and the teeth of the animal ripped through my knuckles, blood welling up. It didn't release my hand but it gave Blackwall ample time to bring a blade down across its spine. The animal went limp and dropped hard, whining, but it garnered no sympathy from the Warden who struck again, cleaving its furry head from its body.

I held my hand and pouted at it. Solas came to my side and with a gentle touch, casted a small spell to heal the bite. I shook out my hand and instinctively wiped it on my hip, frowning.

"That wasn't normal." Bull muttered darkly, kicking the body of a felled wolf. "Those wolves were acting weird."

"It may be the Breach." Solas murmured with a glance at my left hand. I swiftly hid it behind my back. "It may have driven them mad, or a demon may have taken control of the pack."

"Fan-fucking-tastic." I growled through a sigh. In front of us stood the homestead of the Horse Master and my body sagged with relief. The sun was setting behind it and we managed to get through the Templars with little to no trouble. A spot appeared in my vision and I swayed, catching Blackwall's shoulder in surprise.

"Herald?" The Warden questioned with a look toward me.

I shook my head. "Not... not good." It was all I managed before my eyes rolled back into my head and I pitched forward. I sincerely hope Blackwall was ready to catch me.

* * *

 **Note:** _I am of the extreme opinion that you cannot go wielding something like the Mark, a spiritual connection to the Fade, and not have some side-effects. I know in gameplay they have to limit animations and the like, but not on my watch._

 _Hope you enjoyed!_


	12. ACT I: Carry On My Wayward Son

**Running On Empty:** _Carry On My Wayward Son_

* * *

It was warm when I awoke. Above me the wood beams and ceiling of a slanted roof. The distant sound of chickens and cattle echoed up to me. There was a thick furred blanket thrown over my body and a flush flashed up my face when I realized my armor was removed. Hastily I sat up and found myself in a shift, old and worn out cotton, a size too big for me. Off to one side, I found my armor cleaned and propped up against the wall, my maul sitting with it, leaned against the shoulder. With a swallow, I slipped out from under the covers and drew in the room. Warm and simply decorated, open to the floor below me. _I'm in a loft._ There were voices downstairs and they hushed as my feet touched the floor and the wood sighed with my weight.

The sound of feet came from the stairs not far off and I bolted back under the covers. I peered through from under them as the shadow approached and relief flooded me as Cassandra's full form came into view. Tears sprung to my eyes, ecstatic to see the other woman. The covers are thrown back and I surprised Cassandra with a sudden and overpowering hug. We nearly topple over, but my viper readily caught my weight, grunting with surprise. Her arms hesitate before she gently dropped them around my shoulders and returned my hug.

"Jaime?" Cassandra asked gently.

"I missed you _so_ much." I muttered into her shoulder. Her armor was biting into my skin, the shift I wore offered no protection from the metal. Pulling away, I swiped at my eyes to clear the tears. Cassandra blinked, startled to see them. "I don't know how I do anything of this without you around, Cassandra."

"Yes, well." Cassandra sighed. "You nearly didn't. Imagine my surprise when the Iron Bull comes upon our camp with you draped in his arms."

"Oh god, no." I groaned and dropped back down onto the bed. Cassandra hesitated again, but left her shield and sword by the bedside and took a seat next to me. Gently and without prompting, she shifted to lean into my shoulder. Gladly, I leaned into her and sighed, rubbing my face.

"What happened, Jaime?" Cassandra's eyes roamed over my slump form and the same worry I had seen in Blackwall's and Varric's eyes appeared over her face. I shrugged, unsure of what to say or _how_ to say it without sounding completely insane. I would also have to contend with the fact that I passed out and my company would treat me like glass.

"It caught up with me." I murmured softly, my eyes cast down to the floor. My toes wiggled. "We closed a rift. _A_ rift. Just one. And it was almost too much for me to handle." A snort escaped me and I threw myself back onto the bed, hands smothering my face and voice muffled. "How am I supposed to do this, Cassandra? If I pass out each time I close a rift..."

"We'll be better prepared." Cassandra cut me off. I peeked at her from behind my hands. Her face scowled. "Solas... told me some of what happened, but I feel with present company he was reluctant to share all."

Another snort and I shook my head, looking up at the ceiling as my hands fell. "Don't do that. We have to be open about this, it's going to kill us all if we're not careful." I couldn't have divides starting to crop up between my company. I did it myself already and _that_ had to stop, too. It was hard to reconcile the fact that I had a spy at my back, prepared to kill me if the worst came to pass; possession or loss of control. I knew it was necessary, I didn't want anyone I knew dying because I was reckless.

Still, though.

A heavy sigh broke the silence. "Cassandra. Who bathed me?"

The woman chuckled. "Not I, for certain. The Horse Master's wife, they allowed us use of their home and hospitality. We've been trying to negotiate with Dennett on the acquisition of his horses, but he's stubborn." A chuckle came up my throat and I shot her an amused look. She huffed and stood up from the bed. "Since you're better, get dressed, perhaps you can talk some sense into the Horse Master."

Cassandra left and I was in a better mood then when I had woken up. It was unknown to me how long I had slept, as the sun had been setting by the time we had made it to the farms, and daylight was pouring in from outside. I sincerely hoped I wasn't placed in a bed to rest while everyone else was left outside. Maybe they slept in the barn? Was there a barn? With a sigh, I wandered over to my armor and pulled on my leathers and metal plates. Once my maul was on my back, I headed down the stairs to find Dennett still at odds with Cassandra.

"Ah, you're awake." Dennett turned to me, his face hard and arms crossed. "They told me you had sealed a rift. Good on you, Inquisition. At least someone is trying to put things right." I nodded. Cassandra was the only one in the home, the rest of my company was probably outside. His wife stood not far from us at a table, scratching something out in a leather-bound book. A ledger, perhaps.

"We're attempting to, yes." I answered once at the foot of the stairs. I wandered over, Cassandra's scowl was firmly in place, but she was forcing her arms to stay at her sides. My head tilted toward Dennett, "Aside from us, has any of the Inquisition come to you? For help or otherwise?"

"Aye, they have." He answered readily. "They've come asking for horses, saying they need help."

Confused, I ventured gently. "And you refused them?"

"Too right I did." He huffed. "We've got bandits, rogue Templars, rebellious mages, all the like willing to take without asking. I'm not about to send a herd of Ferelden's finest breeds down the road like one sends a letter, only to have them end up as someone's dinner."

"Ah." I murmured, eyebrows raised. "That's a fair point. A deal, then? What could we do to earn those horses, make you feel safer?" The Horse Master stared at me for a moment and then glanced over at his wife. The woman gave him the smallest and briefest of shrugs. He exhaled roughly and turned his dark eyes back to me.

"When we originally heard about this organization of yours, it was a surprise to hear it run by a no-name, run-of-the-mill mercenary, but, you _are_ trying to help." It took a lot of willpower not to allow a matching scowl on my face at the spit-in-the-bucket comment. He shrugged his shoulders and gestured to his chin over at his wife. "Talk to her, and my farmhand. Find out what they need done to secure our lands and I'll send you horses."

"You know," I drawled slightly, my face stony, "if you have a problem with me personally, I'd rather know about it."

Dennett blinked, confusion flashing across his face. "What? No. I have no problem with you, Maker, I know how hard it is to start out from nothing and I respect you for it, doing the good thing. No, Inquisition, no problem, I just have other things that need my attention before I start helping you." With an inhale, I nodded. It was as I had told Cassandra when we first started this venture in the Hinterlands, people weren't going to stick their necks out for a distant organization when their own kin were suffering. I turned to Cassandra, but she was far from appeased.

"Thank you, ser. I'll see about attending to the problems with your people." I bowed my head and Dennett stalked out the front door, business of the day waiting no longer. Curiously, his wife waited for me with an expectant gaze and meekly, I shuffled my way over, giving her a smile. She was quick to shoot me down with a stern look, her eyes hard and she stood to her full height, tall as Cassandra.

"I heard what my man said." She glanced at the door, no introduction beyond that. Sharp eyes turned back to me. "If you want horses, we need our farmers back safe in their fields. Since the Breach, the wolves have gone mad. They come after our men like beasts with the water-sickness." An eyebrow raised to my hairline as I was unfamiliar with the term and glanced at Cassandra for a split second. My viper shrugged and gestured to the horse-master's wife with a tip of her chin. The wife scowled, "You deal with the wolves, and our farmers will be safe again."

"How are these wolves acting different than normal?" A flash of yesterday's fight came to thought. The wolves attacking instead of scattering. It was safer to ask and cover my bases. Solas and Bull had known something was strange about the beasts, and I couldn't ignore the fact that wolves like the ones we had encountered weren't strange; I had nothing to base is off since the only wolves I had encountered before were from a zoo.

The woman stared at me, unsure if I had meant the question. " _Normal_ wolves go after livestock, but come at them with a torch and blade, and they run." She hesitated, a memory crossing her face, pulling at the corners of her eyes and worrying her mouth. "These beasts, though... It's like darkspawn during the Blight, or when the dead rose to attack us." My eyebrows shot clear off my forehead at the mention of dead rising. _Zombies? What the fuck?_ Again with the not mentioning things. I would have to start talking to Varrci instead, even if his stories were exaggerated, there had to be a grain of truth in them.

The wife sighed heavily, "They're possessed, or something like it. I've lost too many men to the beasts. I won't endanger more."

"Of course." I answered and bowed my head respectfully. "We'll see what we can do. Thank you for your time." She followed us out and turned to go to her field. Cassandra and I wandered over to another cabin not too far off from the main homestead. I could see a fire off in the distance and I figured it was the camp the Inquisition finally set up with the choke-point cleared out. My attention turned to the cabin and inside was a scruffy, muscle-bound farmhand. I rocked back on my heels when we nearly collided at the door.

"Hello," I hiccupped, grinning. The farmhand blinked and brought his focus to me, letting out a big, echoing barrel laugh. He bowed and stepped aside, allowing Cassandra and I to step through.

"Sorry about that, Inquisition." He chuckled, voice coming from deep within his chest. "I'm running a bit behind on the list of things needing be done."

"I can understand that. We won't take up too much of your time." I cleared my throat and jabbed a thumb over my shoulder. "Your master made us aware of some needs here on the farm that perhaps the Inquisition could assist with?" His eyes lit up and he waved us over to a map that he had spread out over a table. The cabin was warm and dusty, all around the ground and bed a scattering of books and parchments, scrolls and more maps. My mouth twisted a bit in amusement, _perhaps another for Leliana's horde?_ I glanced at the map and saw scratches of charcoal over a few places.

"The master doesn't want me handing those refugees weapons until they have any hope of defending themselves." He brushed away some dust from the maps and pointed to the marks he had made in charcoal. Scrambling, I reached for my oil-leather knapsack and dug for my little map. Hastily, Cassandra snatched up a piece of charcoal and handed it to me, both of us intent on the map he had. "If you build a few watchtowers, we'd all have more warning before the next attack."

"This is brilliant." I breathed, marking my map and circling the crossings I made, scribbling in notes to make sure I didn't confuse them with the other landmarks I had jotted down. My gaze flicked up to the farmhand and he was grinning wide, pleased with himself. "I'll see that this gets to our Commander. The Inquisition forces will be here to build your watchtowers."

The farmhand nodded, grateful. "You do that, and I'll tell the master and get your people the weapons they need." Relieved that these errands were doable, Cassandra and I left the cabin and allowed the farmhand to dash out to finish his duties. A sigh escaped me and a hand of mind came up to my forehead, index finger and thumb pressed into the temples on either side. Cassandra spared me a quick glance and huffed. I raised an eyebrow at her, questioning.

"You're doing well." Cassandra murmured. "I am... not surprised, you've been learning, but I am glad to see you come into your own."

Something warm swelled under my lungs. "Th-thanks. I _have_ been trying. Without you around to poke and prod me, I've had to do it myself."

"Oh, thank you." Cassandra snorted, amused. "I only did what I thought was best to help you."

"I know, Cassandra." I soothed and placed a hand on her elbow for a moment, and then tugged. "C'mon. We need to get back to that camp I saw over there and see about clearing out those wolves and then fixing up the rest before we head back to Haven."

Cassandra blinked at me, but followed. "Haven? So soon?"

"The food has been taken care of," I answered and trudged over the loamy, rolling ground under us. The camp wasn't far from the homestead and that made sense. If the wolves were being abnormal and the farmhands were having trouble keeping the bandits at bay, this was the safest place to be at the moment. "I _could_ send the watchtower information back through bird, but... after the rift, Solas and I need to talk, and I think I may need to placate Bull."

"The Iron Bull?" Cassandra turned to me in alarm. "Why? What happened?" I hesitated and debated telling her. Cassandra was passionate and any slight against her and her own she took extremely personally. It would make her itchy to have Bull on our team or at least at my side if there was any hint of possible betrayal on his part. Though I was starkly against my death in case of shit hitting the fan, I could (horribly) understand where he was coming from and why it was necessary. It still rustled my feathers, but I could deal. Cassandra perhaps not so much.

 _I should not be so comfortable with my possible murder._

I sighed heavily. "Nothing, really. He did what he was hired to do, which is protect me and help... but with the incident at the rift and how I reacted to it, I don't think we're on the same page right now. Solas and I also need to hammer out what happened, exam it, and make sure it doesn't happen again." I shook my head and looked over at her, slowing down just before I crossed the little pond toward the camp. "Cassandra, there is so much more to this Mark than just being a key a-and... I'm scared. I don't know what it's doing to me."

"What do I need to do?" Cassandra offered firmly. Tears sprung to my eyes, relieved and ever so grateful for Cassandra. No judgment, no question, just support. I could hug her again if she wouldn't strike me dead because of it. I turned to her and looked over her stern, stone face.

"Just, keep an eye on me. Please." My words shook as I said them, my throat tight. "I think people place me too high on a pedestal that the possibility of me doing anything wrong is inconceivable to them, but I _can_ be wrong, Cassandra - and when I am, I need someone to stop me." My eyes caught sight of Bull. The giant creature was seated among the tents and using a whetstone on the edge of a blade I didn't recognize. He may have been helping. Varric was nearby him, writing something in a journal. Solas and Blackwall were engaged in conversation and my heart shuddered at the thought of hurting them.

"I will, Jaime," she promised me gently. With a swallow, I nodded, grateful that she would help me from spiraling into insanity. We continued toward the camp, our boots pushing ripples through the pond as we approached. The company looked up and I could see relief flash over a few faces, Solas the only impassable expression. A smile flirted with my lips weakly and I saluted the other Inquisition soldiers and dismissed them back to their duties. My company was soon around me, fencing our conversation off.

"New plan," I sighed. "The master of the land isn't going budge about the horses if there's still chaos. We need these bandits and rogues outta here." I rubbed at my forehead with the heel of my palm and ran my fingers into my hair, feeling it loose. I blinked, realized I probably looked like a right mess, and proceeded to bring my hair over my shoulder to braid. "His wife and foreman ask that we deal with some wolves in the area, as well as set up watchtowers."

Solas hummed. "The watchtowers would need to be sent to Lady Montilyet and Commander Cullen. They would need to fund and build them. We have locations?" I nodded and handed over my map, once more as Solas had come to be our information keeper. He looked over them with Blackwall spying over his shoulder briefly and sighed with a nod. Away went the map into his knapsack. His head tilted and his ears twitched. "Blackwall and I were discussing the wolves. While you slept, more came to the farm."

"Aye," Blackwall huffed, "they're more than wild. We could trace them back to their lair, if you'd like."

"You can do that?" I asked, surprised.

He smirked. "That I can, tracking is a good skill to have when you're chasing down darkspawn. We can find the wolves and have them dealt with for the farm." My lungs inhaled, the plan falling together. There was a beat of silence as I contemplated the next few steps. My group waited around me quietly and my eyes flickered to Cassandra, thoughtful. My viper shared my look and tilted her head toward me, waiting for my thoughts to voice themselves.

"I need to get back to Haven." I said finally with another look around my group. "We need the Chargers to set camp there and not have their belongings on the road and I need to check in with Josephine on the state of affairs." My gaze swiftly left Cassandra and rested on Blackwall. "Leliana will also need to talk to you concerning the other Wardens and I need to find out if she has any other leads for me to follow." Nods went around my group and another swelling of warmth bubbled under my heart. This was far from easy, dealing out orders and action plans, but I trusted my people. I trusted Solas, Cassandra, and Varric to keep me in line and check me.

Now I had to learn to trust the other two. My eyes looped between Varric and Cassandra, "Cassandra. May you and Varric please start heading back toward the Crossroads and have the Chargers start packing up. Tell Corporal Vale the plan and set up a system so that he and his soldiers can maintain the hold the Chargers have given us." Varric blinked at me, startled. This would be the first time he'd be separated from me while away from Haven. Did I worry him, I wondered?

"You sure, sweetheart?" He asked with a glance over my face. Cassandra had a frown flash over her face; Varric was not her most favorite of travel companions. I hoped with the addition of the Chargers to lead back home to Haven, she would not kill Varric in his sleep.

I smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good, Varric." The dwarf took another moment to scan my face and sighed, shrugging and scratching at the back of his head. _I guess I do worry him. I shouldn't be surprised, after the fainting spell I had yesterday, I'd be dogging my steps, too._ I didn't have to glance at Cassandra, I could feel her shoulders stiffen and her back straightened. She was prepared to do what I had asked and merely awaited the dismissal.

"Our company to consist of myself, The Iron Bull, and Warden Blackwall." Solas murmured toward me. It was a question, the slightest tilt to his words, curious as to what I was doing. With the company as it remained, I was isolating myself with only Solas as backup. It was a horrible gamble and I was praying I didn't have another issue with Bull.

"Yup," it came with a nod from me, "We need Blackwall for tracking, and Bull for power. If there's really a demon controlling the pack, there might be a rift, too. So you and I need to be there to deal with it."

"Are we still going to attempt closing those rifts?" Bull spoke up with a rumble. Our gazes caught together and there was a dark question in his one good eye.

"We have to." I answered steadily, holding his gaze. "Whether or not we're prepared for them, we can't leave them open. If we come across one, we deal with it. Can you accept that?" I threw the question back at him, pointedly. I knew what he wanted, but I wasn't going to back down because I was terrified. That wasn't going to change the fact that it was something that _had_ to be done. I could do it, I had the Mark, I would do it and hope it didn't kill me.

I expected another prod, but he grinned wide at me. "Well, alright, then. Lead on, Boss."

\- 0 -

We followed Blackwall's lead from the camp down toward the river. From the additional map that Solas had, we had come across Forannan Ravine. It was a steep slope down, the moss and boulders making the trip down difficult. Blackwall paced along the riverbed and paused to glance across the water. A slight hesitation gripped him before he crossed. Obediently, I followed and jumped along the tops of some protruding rocks and made it to the other side, my boots squished into the mud.

Solas followed along as well and leapt a bit further to make it past the mud. I flicked a bit of it at him with my boot and it caught his thigh. He scowled at me and with a laugh, I hurried after Blackwall to leave Bull and the sour elf to bring up the rear. As we approached the end of the river, a clearing spread out and dove into the mouth of a cave.

"Let's see," Bull murmured, "If I was a bunch of wolves, that up there looks like a nice place to set up a lair."

"I mean." I teased over my shoulder, nearly running into Blackwall's ass as he was hunched over, studying the tracks. "You're big enough, if we quartered you right..."

" _Bull_ is only a name, boss, remember that."

"Noted." I laughed. Blackwall's hand came up to silence us. Quiet, we fell beside him and he glared at the ground, his hand hovering over a few tracks. He turned his gaze to Solas and gestured with his chin to draw the elf closer. Curious as always, Solas' ears twitched and he stepped forward, careful of the tracks.

"I see." Solas muttered and hunched down to get a closer look. I didn't bother to inspect them as I couldn't tell a dog's paw from a wolf's, so I knew better than to go sticking my nose where it didn't belong. Solas huffed, "They are strange. I say this might belong to the demon controlling them."

My ears perked up at that and I peered over Blackwall's shoulder, my hand on his pauldron. "What was that?"

"Demon." Blackwall glanced at my hand on his shoulder and then up at him. "Seems our suspicions were right; a demon had taken over the pack."

"Can't we be wrong for once?" I grunted, removing my hand and glancing up at the mouth of the lair. A exhale escaped me and I stepped closer, the men around me quiet. My left hand was dormant, pulsing only with the beat of my heart and not the presence of a rift or a demon. That was unnerving, because if demons could hide among us without detection then we were in serious shit.

"I don't feel anything." My eyes flickered down to my left hand as it came up. The green was muted and the glow gentle. "The Mark is quiet." Solas shared a look with me, concern furrowed his brow and he more than likely came to the same conclusion I did about the hidden demon. The men stayed behind me and my spine iced straight down to my stomach: they waited for my signal.

A harsh puff of my cheeks and I gripped my maul, bringing it over my shoulder in preparation. The sounds of their weapons echoed behind me, the crackle of Solas' magic hummed and a barrier dropped onto our heads. A few steps inward and the stirrings of a growl reached me. Bull spotted the wolf before I did and brought his maul down to snap its mouth shut with a crushing blow.

My palm seared with icy terror and I bolted forward. Blackwall and Solas shouted behind me, but Bull was hot on my heels, following my steps like a blood hound. He was barely in the corner of my vision and with me, he raised his maul to strike where I did as the ground gurgled under us, splitting open.

That poor fucking demon didn't know what the fuck had just happened. Two mauls howled down on its head and the demon tore up like a tsunami, snarling its gapping, ripped maw at us. Half of its body slumped from being shattered. It turned toward me, its anger and rage honed on my Mark. I dodged as a long, green arm slithered toward me. There were more howls as the rest of the pack was called up by the wailing demon. Bull took a mighty step forward and put himself between me and the crackling demon.

"Hey!" Bull snarled. Swiftly, he brought the hooked end of his maul up under the demon's arm and then spun backward with the maul's handle over his shoulder, acting like a lever. A snap hissed through the air and the demon howled again, the wolves coming down from above. With another dodge, I was out of the way of snapping jaws of the canines with enough space to allow Blackwall to sprint between me and the animal that had cornered me. I ducked and crawled on my knees for a second, picking up my maul and standing with it as support.

A blink of blue and an ice bolt struck true, it slammed into the demon's chest. My maul came up again with a kick of my heel on the head of it and spun, it collided with the small of the demon's back. Its neck twisted a full one-eighty degrees and its empty sockets leveled with me, the rows of teeth twitching. A shiver of disgust flashed up my spine and nearly brought my stomach to my mouth with it at the sight. Terrified, I hauled my maul upward and smacked where its jaw _should_ have been.

Its hand snaked out in a flail and caught my left wrist. A vision peppered my eyes with a spark of pin-pricking heat, dark and swirling, smog smothered the ground and screams terrorized my ears. I snarled, shaken by the vision, my teeth clenched tight together, and I shoved my hand forward into its face, my fingers gripped the hollow of its nose and one eye socket. Electricity shot through my arm and numbed my elbow, the Mark in my palm flaring to life with a vicious pulse of energy.

The demon yowled, its body rippled with light, and then dispersed violently, throwing me back. Bull caught me as I stumbled and cradled me against his chest as we hit the ground from the force, his arm coming over my head and face as splatters of the demon and essences of the Fade smothered us. The wolves howled around us, yelping and scattering through the lair. The Mark beat heavily in my palm for a few seconds more and it was then that I realized my chest was heaving, desperately trying to catch air for a solid breath. I held my lungs in place and shut my mouth and nose with a hand, my eyes watering momentarily as control released back into my body. I was shaking like a leaf in the cradle of Bull's body.

"I got her," the giant horned man murmured. My companions had surrounded us at the end of battle and beyond Bull's arm I could spy a worried Warden and a frowning elf. Another sigh shook my lungs, but the heat of Bull's body focused me. Relieved, I patted his chest with the back of my right hand and sighed when he gently relented. Briefly, there was a pregnant pause around us and I looked up to find Bull looking down at me, his head tilted so his good eye was on me.

"I'm good." I coughed into a fist. "I g-guess I can use it on demons, too. U-useful."

"Incredibly." Solas deadpanned. "But something preferably learned under controlled circumstances. That was impossibly reckless, Jaime -"

"I had her back." Bull interrupted. There was a sharp stare between the men and silently, Solas answered him with a ticked brow. There was a rumble from Bull's chest, meeting the challenge. Helplessly, I was trapped against his chest with the one beastly arm of the Qunari. "I'm growing used to it, to reading her. To you, sorry, boss."

"Reading me?" I hiccuped, curious and horrified. It was the last thing anyone wanted to hear from a spy. Bull chuckled and finally, I could breathe as his arm relaxed and rested on his bent knee behind me. Supported by his leg at my back, I was effectively sitting within his lap. Selfishly, I took a moment to soak up the Wall of Fuck Off that surrounded me in the form of Bull's body and allowed my body to recover from the adrenaline. His good eye swiveled back down to me away from Solas.

"Yeah." He chuckled again and nodded his head. "Before, at the first rift, you had this expression that came over your face, and then you ran toward the rift." He gestured with his chin to the burnt spot on the ground where the demon had been seared by my Mark. "Same thing here. There was a moment, like you were frozen in time, and I saw your face change again. So, when you ran - I followed." I stared at him, amazed that in only two encounters, he had a battle-plan set for my recklessness.

Something _I didn't even knew I did._

With a swallow, I nodded and held out my hand. Bull hesitated for a moment, but with a smirk, offered his palm to me and I gripped it to lift myself to my feet and out of the protective cage of his body. My hands dusted my ass off and he stood, my maul already in his hand. Nodding, my hand gripped the handle and brought the weapon back up into its holster. The men around me assessed each other, Solas clearly one-sided as Blackwall was new to the group and had not vote for either party.

I cleared my throat, "Let's head back to Elaine and let her know the wolves won't be a problem anymore."

We all needed to have a nice, long chat back at Haven.

* * *

 **Note:** _FINALLY. It's just a pinch of flavor, but it is a slow-burn romance. Just a touch. A tiny, tiny touch._


	13. ACT I: In The Face Of Fear, Courage

**Running On Empty:** _In The Face Of Fear, Courage_

* * *

It took the better part of three days to gather us all up to leave. The Chargers were efficient with packing up and moving at a moment's notice, but setting up the remaining Inquisition soldiers around key points of the Hinterlands to hold it while we were gone was another matter. It was made easier by the fact that a few choke points had been liberated, and with a volatile rift finally sealed, attention could be diverted elsewhere. The Redcliff Farms were defended and pleased with the progress, Elaine convinced her husband to allow us a handful or two of horses for the trip.

That made things infinitely better. The herd of horses were loaded up with a majority of our supplies (Master Dennett grumbled about how war-horses were being used for a cattle's job) but a few were relieved of that duty to be steeds. My company were offered their pick of animals, but I had stayed back by the fence, listening to the chatter and discussion of which horse was better suited to whom. Dennett approached me not too long after, a sour look on his face.

"Is there an issue with the horses, Inquisition?" He asked with a stern glance. Surprised, I straightened from my lean against the fence and shook my head, unsure of what he was getting at. The old master huffed, "Then why haven't you picked one?" _Oh, well. That makes sense._ A flush of embarrassment heated my cheeks and I cleared my throat, swaying against the fence.

"Well. I... don't actually know how to ride a horse." My shoulders shrugged lightly. "I mean, with who I am? Why would I need to?"

The horse master gave me a long look. "... fair. No sense in teaching an orphan to ride when there's no need, but you're a leader. It's a skill you're going to require. No one is going to follow you from the back, Inquisition."

I laughed, rubbing at my nose. "Point taken, but I just don't have time to learn. That's an animal that is four or five times my weight. I don't... know if I want to chance fate like that."

"These are good horses, Inquisition." He snorted, arms crossed tightly. "If you take care of them, they'll take care of you. Come on, over the fence. We'll find you one." A sputter escaped me, but the horse master ignored it. Nervously, my feet popped me over the fence and I skittered up behind him, glancing at the horses with darting eyes. These creatures were different than a bike. A bike I could control nearly one-hundred-percent. An animal had a mind of its own and a will to do what it wanted.

"This here," the horse master pulled a horse's reins from a stall and brought the animal forward, "is a Ferelden Forder. He's sturdy, stable, and doesn't spook easily. Good horse for a beginner, and a dream for anyone with experience." Not like I could dispute any of what he said, I didn't know horses from cats as far as my knowledge was concerned.

"His name is Avonal." Seanna called from within the row of stalls. Her head appeared soon after, covered in a layer of dust. "He's patient, too, and usually will stop you from doing anything stupid."

"A-ah, right." My nerves were already fried from the idea of _sitting_ on the animal, lest of all actually getting him to walk. "Um, I dunno..."

"Perhaps if it is too uncomfortable for you, you may ride with me." Solas stepped up beside me and easily reached out to pet Avonal's nose. The horse's ears swiveled on his head and he graced Solas with a sharp stare before snorting lightly and relenting to the touch. I snickered behind a hand as Solas nodded in thanks to the great beast.

"Well..." It was tempting, but it would also cause more problems than solve. I would _still_ need to learn to ride, and just because Solas was willing to bear the burden that was me didn't mean that his horse would be willing to do so for long. Deep from my stomach I sighed and gave a half-hearted shrug with one shoulder. "I guess I can try. How do I do this?"

"Let's get you started with the basics first." Dennett grumbled. "I won't have a horse improperly cared for in my absence. Here, we'll start with the grooming..." Hence the reason it had taken us three days to set out. I wasn't the fastest study when it came to learning a new set of skills (Cullen could attest to that, I'm sure), but by the time we were finally out on the road, I had the general idea of "pet care" for a creature that could kill me if he kicked.

Joy of joys.

It was a thrill, though, to sit atop the beast and have it move under me like a powerhouse. Dennett had been right for the most part; Avonal wasn't cantankerous enough to fight me every step of the way back toward Haven, and despite most of my nerves making me jump whenever he took a hard step, he was calm and patient. If the animal was capable of expression, I was almost certain Avonal found me a hilarious riot now and again.

What would have taken us weeks or more with the trail of people that were with us only took one and a half. We were home and dispersed into the snow of Haven like fireflies in the twilight sky. Blackwall I left with Harritt to fix and improve his armor. Solas bid me farewell at the gate with his eyes promising we would talk again once everyone was settled. Bull had wandered over the hill past the lake where the Chargers were to set up with the rest of the Inquisition forces that stayed in Haven. Abandoned by my company, my heels turned toward the Chantry.

The settlement was mostly dormant. People around me were in no rush as the day was dying down. Leliana's tent stood silent with a few candles lit inside. Exhausted but willing to wait, I trudged toward her and planted myself on a barrel, my head bowed between my hands and knees. There was a discussion between her and another agent, but all I had managed to hear was _make it clean, painless if you can._ Alarmed, my head snapped up.

"Wait, what?" My eyes blinked hard, my vision spinning. "Who? Who are we killing?"

Leliana scowled. "A traitor. Butler killed one of my best men and has fled." The agent that stood next to her glanced between my face and Leliana's, the tiniest bit skittish at the current situation. With a heave I stood from the barrel, shaking my head and coming within arm's reach of my spymaster.

"And you'd kill him, just like that?" I may not have been a grand spy at the game of intrigue and espionage, but I assumed there had to be some loyalty among shadows. If we started killing one, then no one else would stand loyal among the Inquisition, people would spend too much time looking over their shoulders, awaiting a dagger. My lips tugged into a frown as Leliana's hard eyes met mine.

"You find fault with my decision?" Leliana's frustration and anger was unlike that of Cassandra's. Hers was a river that ran deep and swept the feet of all that crossed her, drowning them without a sound. The agent next to us took a step back, his arms behind his hips and his head tipped down, patient.

"Killing isn't the answer, Leliana." I blurted. It _never_ was the answer, even now as the months ticked on, my stomach would never feel at peace again, knowing how many lives I had taken, how many liters of blood doused my maul. Leliana's face turned feral and my spine went ice cold as she took two snapping steps and was in my face. I held my breath, praying and trembling in my armor: _what am I doing?!_

"Butler's betrayal put _our_ agents in danger!" She snarled at me, low and quiet and venomous. "I condemnn _one_ man to save _dozens_! I may not like what I do, but it _must_ be done." Her eyes glittered at me, asking me to rise to the challenge in a field of shadows I did not know. My throat forced a swallow as she glared, "I cannot afford ideals at a time like this."

My heart quivered behind my ribs, my voice small. "Ideals a-are _exactly_ what we need at a time like this, Leliana." Something flashed behind her eyes and all the swelling flame that had sparked behind them faded to a dull roar. My bones steeled under my skin and I cleared my throat, my voice stronger. "If we give up on the things we believe in, then at the e-end of it, all we have left are empty h-husks of people we wish we weren't."

She stared at me. She stared at me and I felt judgment come upon my head with the weigh of their Maker. I don't know what she was looking for and certainly she wouldn't find it in my fragile expression or my trembling bones. Her gaze relented and she turned from me. All the world's oxygen rushed into my lungs and I felt dizzy from the overdose.

"You feel very strongly about this." She murmured. Her hands fell to her table and she closed her eyes. A shake of her head and she glanced at me for a brief moment. "Very well. I'll find another way to deal with this man. Now, if there isn't anything else?" Oh man, my knees were rattling under my leathers and my throat choked for half of a second.

"U-um." Shit, I hadn't thought that through at all, my timing was atrocious. "A-actually, yeah."

She sighed and turned to me fully. My back shot ram-rod straight, my words flashing out of my mouth. "We found Warden Blackwall at Lake Luthias training conscripts, h-he - you probably g-got the letter from Lieutenant Aclassi, but he came with us. He's going to set up camp with the Chargers."

She nodded, expression steady. "Alright. Thank you." The dismissal was all I needed and I dodged out of that tent like it was on fire. The agent that had remained smirked at me as I left and if I had just an ounce of bravery left, I would have met the smirk with a few choice words. As it was, my soul was shaking in the shell of my body, so I vacated to the Chantry.

Lady Montilyet and Commander Cullen were seated in the ambassador's office-and-room with her servants and the studious mages gone. They waved me in after I poked my head inside. The commander stood to his feet and walked over to me as the door shut behind me, concern warred on his face with alarm.

"Maker, you look deathly pale, what happened?" He asked, leading me to the seat in front of Lady Montilyet's desk. My sweet ambassador had a goblet of something strong-smelling in my hands soon, but I didn't drink it. I couldn't trust my throat to work at the moment.

"I, u-uh." The goblet was heavy in my numb hands. I set it down on the desk, careful of the parchments. "I overheard Leliana give an agent an o-order I disagreed with, so... I contradicted her." The other two heads of The Hydra blinked at me, astonished. Lady Montilyet chuckled quietly behind a hand and sat. Cullen came around my right side, his hand on the back of the chair where I sat.

"You did?" He was serious at first, and then huffed, amused. "It was bound to happen. I suppose that explains while you look like death warmed over."

"Leliana is a thing to behold on her best days." Lady Montilyet replied neutrally and fought a smile. "But, she did not kill you. Did she take what you had to say into consideration?"

"Y-yeah?" I hiccupped with a sip of the darkened liquid. My nose scrunched, it was deep and bitter and violent. "She said she'd find another way to deal with the issue."

"Well now." Cullen chuckled openly, sitting on the edge of Josephine's desk. "We can take Leliana for her word. She usually isn't so keen to bend her back for anyone that isn't the late Divine."

I squawked quietly. "N-no, she snapped at me, I j-just... my flight or fight instinct broke. So I panicked." Cullen's drew a hand to his eyes and pinched the corners of them at the bridge of his nose, chuckling faintly into his palm. Josephine smiled at me warmly with a shrug and the commander's hand ran down his face.

"You survived, and that's what matters." Cullen soothed, pleasantly amused. "Did you come in here to escape her, then?" I shook my head and pawed at my knapsack for my map that I had taken back from Solas. I spread it out on the table for both Hydra heads to see and pointed to the circled marks I had made along the farm.

"We got some work to do for these people."

\- 0 -

The evening had been productive. Cullen and Josephine had been enthused to have valuable information at their disposal and though no one directly patted my head for a Job Well Done, it was good enough for me. Especially after the whole debacle I had with Leliana. When the sun had completely disappeared, Josephine sent me on my way to my cabin for the night. Bathed in frigid water and hair brushed out of all the bushes it had collected over my last week's travel, I went to bed and passed out like a dead light. Emotional trauma could do that to a person.

My body had grown accustomed to an early rise, so just before the crack of dawn my legs were swung over the side of the bed and my torso followed them. This was well before I had any cognitive thought, my limbs set into routine and the sounds of Haven triggered long dormant responses from my days training with the commander. Up and dressed in my other set of armor left behind and an extra fur-coat, I bundled up my tattered pieces from the first set and blearily made my way out toward Harritt's forge.

Sleepily, I grunted passable 'good morning's to soldiers or civilians that were also awake (and coherent) at this ungodly hour. The mountain range was always icy and the wind hugged my body close, making my arms and knees buckle from the force of my shivers. I had gotten too accustomed to the temperate weather of the Hinterlands. At Harritt's forge, I stumbled in and smiled weakly at the blacksmith and handed over my armor.

"What did you do, run through a wheat mill?" Harritt grumbled as he took the leather to inspect. With another stumble I waddled my way over to a crate by the half-formed stone fence and huddled up in the corner, drawing my coat close and exhaling hard into the collar, trying to keep my nose warm. Harritt raised his eyebrow and handed the leather off to an apprentice, a hand on his hip as he stared at me. "You're not actually going to stay there all morning, are you?"

"I sat down." I murmured, my eyelids heavy. "Now 's too late."

Harritt shook his head and waved me off. "Go back to bed, Herald. Come back out when the rest of the troops are out." Harritt left me with a chuckle and set to work on repairing my armor. The clinking of metal and the drum of hammerheads were a strangely soothing and comforting noise, my body relaxing as the stone behind me warmed with my body and despite the heat, my eyelids were growing stronger as the forge came to life.

"Herald?" Blackwall's face appeared over my head from where I was crouched. Reflexively, I grinned up at him as Harritt huffed and shot me a nasty look. I suppose I didn't need to stay in the forge today to wait for the Commander to get the troops limbered up for training. Did I even need to attend training anymore? I would have to ask the Commander when I spotted him.

"Take her back to the cabin, would you?" Harritt harassed us from his workbench. "She's being stubborn again and I would rather not have the Commander down on my ass because she got sick again."

"I didn't get sick last time." I grunted and stood, brushing the snow from my ass and legs. "Commander Cullen was exaggerating for the troops." Either way, I left the harried blacksmith master to his work and popped around the fence toward a bemused Blackwall. The Warden left his sword and helmet for Harritt to fix and followed me at a comfortable pace, his stride soon stepping ahead of me.

Blackwall's eyes caught sight of the Breach overhead and he paused. I did, too, just behind him. With a glance between him and the hell-mouth that howled above us, I waited. It was strange how accustomed I had gotten to the terror that was the Breach as it glared from the heavens. Lifetimes ago it had scared me to the point of tears. Now? It was just a painful constant, like an ache. I clenched my left hand and shoved my fists into my coat pockets.

"Maker." He breathed, faintly incredulous. "Look at it. So much easier to ignore when it's far away." An amused snort shot through my nose, my gaze caught him move and my head inclined to find his eyes searching me. A flush warmed my face to my ears and I scowled lightly, surprised by the sudden attention. "And to actually walk out of it, to be that close..."

"We can take a field trip if you'd like, and get closer." I groused with a jut of my chin toward the Breach. "Mighty warm up there, I bet."

He snorted and his gaze softened as he chuckled. "No, I'm quite all right down here. I must admit, I thought..." He hesitated and my ears warmed again, embarrassed. He, like most of the others who had come to hear the stories, must've thought me something different. My lungs expanded and I held my breath to keep my patience. We had started on the wrong foot, after all.

"I know. Everyone is expecting a savior and then they get this." My hand came out of my pocket to gesture toward the rest of me. I shrugged a shoulder and shuffled my heels in the snow. Blackwall frowned at me, his mouth set in a firm line and stern wrinkles collected around his eyes.

"I'm sorry, that was thoughtless of me. I did it at the lake, as well, thinking - well." He sighed and a laugh escaped me. He was just digging a hole to China but managed to bring it to a halt. A huff popped from his lungs and he straightened his shoulders. "In the end, it's what you do, and how you do it. That's important." I nodded, I couldn't disagree with that, not after what I had shoved into Leliana's face about ideals and being a better person.

There was a beat of silence before he continued. "Just one question, then. How do you think you fit in with all this?" With a blink, I refocused on him, alarmed by the question before realization hit that he had no clue about my actual past. _Oh, thank god. I don't need a heart attack at five in the morning._ To recover from my spook, my lips pressed tight together and I pondered the question.

"I don't." The honesty won out. A swallow twitched down my throat when I looked up at him. "I just... want to stop this war and put everything back in order. I want peace." There was another stretch of silence between us and he assessed me with quick flicks of his eyes over my face. One day I would work the courage up to ask these people what they thought of me.

One day.

"It's a worthy goal." He nodded in firm agreement. "One I'm happy to support. For me, I'll be satisfied so long as we find the bastards that killed the Divine. They owe us some answers." Now was not the time to bring up suspicions again about the Wardens and their part in the Divine's death. Instead, I chuckled and tossed a thumb over my shoulder to where Cassandra normally trained.

"Get in line. If you can beat out Cassandra and Leliana, have at it, my friend." We shared a chuckle over it, despite his miniscule amount of time in the presence of Cassandra, I think a warrior's heart could know one another without much effort. I wasn't terribly trained in small talk, but it was hard for me to keep it going without some push or assistance. My eyes closed for a beat.

"So, do you have anything large and heavy that you need moved?" Blackwall cracked the ice. Another laugh was startled out of me and my shoulders relaxed. Well, it was a horrible attempt, but it was something better than what I could do.

"I feel like that would be a waste." I joked back.

A smirk flirted under his beard, his arms crossed over his chest. "Oh, really?"

"You don't know? Main reason I need you here is to stand in front of dragons and let them eat you." His face paled for a moment and I lost it, a barking laugh running up my throat and I smothered it behind a hand, cheeks red. "Sorry! I wouldn't do that, honestly. I've never seen a dragon, I don't think I would have the nerve."

Blackwall snorted and his gaze flashed over my face. "I have to say, my lady, are unlike any other woman I've ever met." A hard snort escaped me and I coughed into my fist with a shake of my head. The sun was finally cresting over the horizon and smothered us in the faint glow of morning light. The smirk was back on his face, easier to see by the sunlight.

"You know, I'm going to take that as a compliment." Impossibly, I stuck my tongue out at him. For once, an actual laugh came up instead of a smirk or an amused scoff. A small victory in terms of bonding with my companions.

"It is true, though." He said after he regained his composure. The good humor remained laced through his tone, his body relaxed and his arms hanging loosely by his sides. Relief seem to swell with his breaths and it tickled me to think that somehow I had managed to ease whatever worries that had been plaguing him. My head tilted, waiting for him to continue.

He sighed heavily. "I merely mean to say, what you did, facing the rift even... after what it had done to you. That takes courage." For the briefest of seconds, his tone of voice and his words harkened back to a memory with my dad, listening to him through my tears after I had been beaten for standing up for myself. It ended disastrously with both knees skinned and my palms shredded to hell.

"Someone once told me," I started as I lost control of the memory, "That courage and bravery were better than fearlessness." My dad had placed his hands on my shoulders and then held my cheeks. To avoid tears, my gaze dragged up to the Breach and I stared at it, willing the tears to stay back. "To be courageous meant to understand how badly things could go, and _still_ face it. I'm terrified, but I don't want someone... to hurt when I could have helped them. You know? I dunno. Sounds dumb when I say it out loud." I laughed, mortified that I had allowed my mouth to vent my thoughts.

Blackwall watched me with a keen gaze and I knew for sure I had sounded utterly idiotic. Hastily, I shrugged hard under my coat. "Y-yeah. The orphanage teaches us weird things. Welp. I'm... gonna go. I need to check in with Commander Cullen and the troops." The rambling was nearly uncontrollable. A nervous chuckle wiggled free, "If you need anything, let me know, or have a note sent up to the Chantry. Okay?"

"Of course." Blackwall bowed his head, but his eyes never left me. A hard grip of my teeth behind my lips and I nodded, then turned on my heel and booked it out toward the troop tents just outside of Haven's watchful eye. It was my imagination that had the heat of Blackwall's gaze bore into my back. I winced, _I'll have to watch what I say. Trying to be empathetic and I come across sounding like a moron. Christ._

I sighed and soldiered on, _next on the list. The Iron fucking Bull._

* * *

 **Note:** _My friend accidentally flirted with Blackwall. This is going to be hilarious._


	14. ACT I: One Is The Lonelist Number

**Running On Empty:** _One Is The Loneliest Number_

* * *

The sun was slightly higher in the sky when I left Blackwall and made my way back toward the front gate. I could hear Commander Cullen bark orders at the troops and off near the gate, I spotted Bull in front of his tent, Aclassi standing near him. Both men watched as the commander drilled his troops through the routines I had nightmares about and, figuring that I couldn't do any worse than what I had attempted with Blackwall, I walked up to the Iron Bull and his lieutenant. When my throat cleared, both sets of eyes (or eye, oops) turned to look at me. I waved and Aclassi was the only one to smile at me.

"Mornin', Your Worship. Bit early, isn't it?" Aclassi greeted me comfortably. I melted, relieved that one of them would talk to me without a dagger at my throat. I could still hear Bull's voice in my head, ringing about in between my ears of _we need to talk_ and despite our brief moment in the lair of the wolves, the travel back had kept us separate. He had stayed with his company and had caught up with them while we made our way back to Haven. Solas and Blackwall had been my conversational companions for most of it.

"Not really." I answered, smiling against the sunlight. Aclassi chuckle as I continued. "When this Inquisition first started up, I was terrible at the maul. I was just a beserker and Cullen was not impressed. From that point on, I had my ass woken up before dawn and didn't go to bed until I passed out that evening. Training with Commander Cullen is not all sunshine and roses." Aclassi grinned and crossed his arms over his chest, laughing.

"Aye, I can see that. So that was true, then? You were just a mercenary for hire?" Aclassi spared a glance at Bull and I felt that his silence was a bit unnatural for our situation, but I wouldn't push it. Bull would talk to me when he felt like it. Being what he was, the Iron Bull was most likely taking the time to learn what he could about me. Not that it wouldn't matter, the words that I parroted were ones that I had practiced for days throughout my first few weeks with Leliana to keep it as water-tight as I could.

"Yeah. They picked me up when I was stupid young, sixteen or so, but... I was more like a pack mule at that time." It gave me ten years to explain, from the time I could have been kicked out of another orphanage or just abandoning that life to find a new one. Something crossed Aclassi's eyes and he cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. I blinked, catching the sight of it, and my feathers ruffled as implications flashed through my mind. "A-ah, no. Not like that. One of the archers liked me well enough, so she bit any hand that touched me. Or tried."

"Ah." Aclassi said, relieved and ashamed. "Sorry, Your Worship, I didn't mean..."

I smiled weakly at him. "It's alright, Lieutenant. Pain is all a matter of perspective. It's only as painful as I allow it to be." The poor lieutenant nodded and glanced at Bull. Mercifully, the Qunari commander waved off his second-hand man and with a grateful pop of a bow, Aclassi beat a hasty retreat. Bull's eye shot toward me and I shrugged. There was nothing to say to that, nothing that I wanted to add, in any case. With Bull, the less I said was better, because he would leave him to fill the gaps.

Fuck, this was hard.

"They've got good form." Bull started after a few heartbeats between us. With a glance, I found him watching Cullen drag his new recruits through a few practice throws and shield bashes. "Cullen's putting his Templar training to good use." My eyes darted over to the Commander. His armor was what he normally wore, the furred pauldrons, the blistered, dull chest piece and his leather under-armor. He wore nothing that was reminiscent of the Templar armor that I had seen before. Curiously, my attention returned to Bull.

"Did Cullen tell you he was a Templar?" I asked quietly. "He's not wearing the armor."

Bull shook his head. "He didn't have to. Might not be a Templar shield, but it's a _Templar_ holding it." Surprised by the observation, my gaze snapped back over to the Commander as Bull continued, his voice low and methodical as he explained what I couldn't have seen before. "He angles the shield just a bit down. Helps direct fire or acid away, so it doesn't spray right into your face." The realization struck me quickly. From just a simple, instinctive action the Bull had gained so much information. That Cullen not only knew how to fight, but could fight well with a shield, and had the experience to redirect potentially deadly hazards from the face. All wrapped up to one thing; _Templar._

 _Holy fuck,_ my mind went numb, _if he picked that up just from that... what does he know about me?_

"Qunari learn the same thing when we train to fight Tevinter mages." His voice drew me back into the living world. He huffed, a distant sigh from a memory. "Your Templar's doing good work." My gaze remained on Cullen and the troops, the new information coloring their movements and actions the slightest amount. Clearly it took experience and practice to notice something like that, things I would not have since I grew up in a world were swords and shields and mauls were a thing of a distant past.

"He is." I finally answered and brought my gaze back to Bull. "You sound like you could help with that."

"Nah," the big horns shook slightly, "I'm no good at command unless I know who my guys are sleeping with and what they like to drink. The Inquisition's already too big for that. The Chargers are big enough for me." An amused snort escaped me and some tension eased out of my shoulders. I hadn't necessarily thought of bonding with people in that sense, but I highly doubted that anyone would be willing to talk about sexual conquests while the Herald of Andraste was within earshot. There was another beat and he shifted on his feet, contemplating his next words.

"The biggest problem for the Inquisition right now isn't on the front line." He motioned to the troops with his chin. His eye swiveled back around and studied me. "It's at the top. You've got no leader, no Inquisitor." The muscles of my throat seized and I glanced away from his gaze. Leliana and Cullen had proven apt at commanding our troops and our numbers with effective and efficient planning. Josephine could be a leader, if she had the hard-heart for it. My left hand clenched in my coat pocket as previous conversations with Solas and Mother Giselle returned; no one would follow them like they would follow _me_.

"Then maybe we need one." My shoulders rolled under my coat and my attention returned to his face. "I would be willing." _Tentatively_ willing, but still more willing than anyone else. This was a mess of a situation with no real win in sight aside from closing the Breach with enough accumulative power. The idea of facing the Breach again had my knees weak and my soul in a state of panic knowing that I could hear the screams and echoing pains of the spirits. Despite that, it _had_ to be me.

"You?" Bull grunted, his expression muted. "Why _you?_ " I puffed up under my coat. Granted, the start of our working relationship wasn't the best. I had fallen on my ass from a lightning bolt to the back, and then had a panic attack after closing the first actual rift we encountered _and then_ nearly passed out from disintegrating a demon with my hand, but surely he could see why it had to be me? I reined back my initial instinct to snap at him for my own defense. Bull's sense of information gathering was meant to poke and prod, because a reaction was just as good as words.

I sighed, "Look. We started on a bad foot. This thing," my hand was raised from my pocket, the Mark a faint glow in the morning light, "it's just a tool. I didn't even want to use it at first, I was _so_ willing just to slice my hand off and be finished with it." His eyebrows rose up to the hard bone of his brow and we shared a brief pause. My shoulders shrugged, "I'm not the best thing that could have happened to the Inquisition, I'm sure they could have found someone braver or smarter, or funnier..." Nothing, no laugh, not even a twitch along his face. God, this was just a disaster much like what it had been with Blackwall. I was insane to think I could connect with these people.

"But they've got _me_." I said firmly, staring at him. Like with Leliana, my knees threatened to give, but I forced them taut and straightened my back. "And with doubt flying around everywhere about the Maker this, and the Maker that, and what if we're paying for sins and some other shit... I can make these decisions for them." My hand flexed and my fingers curled into my palm as I stared at the Mark. His eye shifted to it as well as he waited. "If it lets them sleep better at night knowing that the weight of the world isn't on their shoulders, then... I can do that for them. I can live with it."

Bull, as it had been with Leliana and Blackwall, stared. It wasn't as intense as Blackwall's had been, or as biting as Leliana's, but it was still unnerving. My emotions were wild under the forced mask of disinterest I desperately tried to play. A shift of his feet again and Bull tilted his head in an attempt to catch my attention. Shoulders once again stiff, my gaze floated up to his face, my ears hot from embarrassment as I awaited my lecture on my lack of skills and knowledge on leadership.

"Huh." He breathed, and then chuckled. "For a second there, you sounded like a Qunari."

 _What?_ The figurative rug was ripped out from under me.

He chuckled harder at my dumbfounded expression. "My people don't pick leaders from the strongest, or the smartest, or even the most talented. We pick the ones willing to make the hard decisions..." His gaze, for the briefest moment, softened with sympathy. "And live with the consequences." I ducked my head into my coat and had my gaze shoot down to the ground. A new flush of embarrassment and the tiniest amount of pride popped in my chest. Being compared to a hulking Qunari was a small step to friendship, I suppose.

"Ah, who knows." Bull dragged our conversation back from the emotional one it was falling into. "Maybe you seal the Breach, the Chantry gets off its ass, and all those soldiers go home and get fat." My eyes followed his gaze to the training recruits that Cullen had. The sun was above our heads, still an early morning, but fully visible. The recruits were already panting and sweating, but all forcing themselves through the routine. Determined.

"You think?" Quietly, my voice carried up to him.

He gave me an empty look. "It could happen. It won't, but it _could_." Dejection flooded me. I already struggled to maintain hope for the people around me, but perhaps he was right. This was Murphy's Law incarnate. Anything that could go wrong, would go wrong, and I was at the center of it. There was a burn to my eyes as I closed them and breathed deep.

"Boss?" Bull prompted after seconds had gone by and my eyes didn't open, my body frozen. A strong exhale shot through my nose and I looked up at him, wondering how he managed to go about his life with that kind of attitude. It was no better than mine, the longer I thought about it, as my own pessimistic mindset had me dragging my heels with this Inquisition.

"You ever..." I don't know what I was doing, posing this question to Bull. It could get me sent to the bin of insanity if he pushed the issue. He tilted his head at me as I trailed off, his pointed ears perked to listen. My throat cleared again, "You ever wonder why you get up in the morning to do a job like this? This... kind of thing, where you want it to work, but it won't?"

"I did, once." Bull answered immediately. Surprised, my gaze bounced back to him, wide eyed. His nose flared and he pulled a barrel over and patted the top of it. Confused but not about to turn away an opportunity when it was presented to me, I walked over and hopped on top. He remained standing and turned only slightly to face me halfway, keeping his good eye out on the crowd.

"So you know a little about the _Ben-Hassrath_ , right?" He asked with a curious glance.

I shrugged, one leg tucked up under a knee. "Barely, to be completely honest with you."

"To start, _Ben-Hassrath_ is a general term. You've got the secret police who investigate problems inside our territory. You got the re-educators who take people with problems and fix their minds... or make them disappear." I avoided his look at the explanation and kept my gaze to my swinging foot as it tapped against the barrel. _Yikes._ He rumbled, a chuckle or a grunt that I couldn't tell apart, "And then you've got the spies."

"... I'm kinda scared to ask, but. How do the re-educators work?" Bravely, my eyes drew up to his face. His horns swung a little over his shoulders, a pinch of his mouth came to his expression while he pondered my question. The massive muscles of his shoulders rolled and he shifted again to his better foot.

"I only know the basics. Wasn't my area. That _said_..." Another flare of his nose, an exhale steamed from it. "Keep a man awake long enough, ask the right questions, give the right potions, and you can get him to say anything." A shiver flashed up my spin at the thought of being herded up and tortured, a deep quake of fear bubbled up from my stomach.

Bull sighed and continued. "You don't need blood magic or demons to change someone's mind. We're a lot more fragile than we'd like to believe." I could believe it, one-hundred percent. This whole life that I was living here was a test to how fragile my own psyche was; killing men, death at every corner, dangerous magic, demons, possessions, rifts... I cried and shook at everything, like a newborn kitten left to the wolves.

"You can alter someone's beliefs that easily?" I should have known better than to pry deeper, but if I was going to live here past surviving the Breach, I had to start learning somewhere.

"One of my friends was a re-educator. He said that every memory was like a page of a book." Bull nodded and cast me a quick look. "When you examine a memory, you're turning to that page... and when you're there, the page is laid bare." Memories were fallible and easy enough to manipulate. Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen to an extend had done something similar when it came to "fixing" my history enough so that I could pass as a citizen of Thedas.

Bull huffed again, watching my down-turned face. "Write a few notes in the margins of the page, erase a word here and there, and your whole outlook changes." My hands gripped the barrel and my bones felt exposed to the world, my skin, my protection peeled back. It was impossible for him to know, but the thought that he _could_ unsettled me.

Jaime _Welton_. Ferelden. _Orphan._ A mercenary. With just the right amount of notes, of erased words, I had become someone else. My organs shuddered through my body, alarmed by the fact that despite knowing _who_ I was, it was not what these people saw. I glanced up and looked around, spying Cassandra and Blackwall training together, Cullen and his troops, and the civilians that walked past us.

 _Fucking hell._ A hand ran down my face. _The implications..._

"Yeah," he murmured, having caught my reaction, "Always felt a little weird reading after that conversation." I snorted and chuckled with a glance at him. For a moment, we shared a look and he flashed me a small grin; on some level, we understood.

"And, so, you're a spy." I ventured.

He gave a half shrug. "Close. I am now, but I didn't start out that way. They sent me to Seheron because they needed someone who could fight and hunt down problems." Another rumble came up his chest and my attention flashed to his torso in surprise, then back up to his face. The words were rough from memory, "That whole island was a sack of cats. Incursions from Tevinter, _Tal-Vashoth_ , and native rebels fighting both sides... And in the middle, _me_ , trying to wrangle the rebels and restore order."

"That sounds insane." My weight leaned back on the barrel, my hands braced behind me on the lip of it for balance. "How the hell did you put up with all that shit?"

There was an angry snort. "I hunted down a lot of rebels. Lost a lot of friends to the Vints, or the Fog Warriors, or the _Tal-Vashoth_. One day I woke up and couldn't think of a damned reason to keep doing my job." A dark look came my way, my question finally being answered as he sighed, "Turned myself in to the re-educators." My blood went cold and my gaze was frozen on his face. To actively, _willingly_ , seek out that kind of treatment...

"That's..." I struggled for a word, because everything I thought to say sounded petty and contrite. "That's fucking brave, knowing what they do."

"Mmhmm." Bull hummed, his darkened gaze shifted away from me. "I wanted to be fixed like they had fixed others. The _Ben-Hassrath_ ordered me to go to Orlais, ostensibly as a _Tal-Vashoth_ , and work undercover. _That's_ how I ended up here." My gaze shifted to glance at Bull sideways, a whole new perspective of the Qunari that had been thrown into the mess with me, from one hell-hole into a hell-mouth.

"Well," I exhaled, weakened by what I had learned, but grateful to have some understanding of the man, "I'm glad you're here, Bull." And I was, because it had taught me a bit of the world I didn't know, and though it made my skull burst to try and keep up with all of it, he at least attempted to assist me in ways he had known how.

Bull chuckled, "Me, too." The barrel was warm under my ass and I refused to move. Now was a good a time as ever to have The Talk, as he had asked. With my hands, I shifted my weight to face him a bit better, to allow him to fully face the open lake and keep the gate in his peripheral vision of his good eye. His movement was automatic once he didn't have to accommodate for me anymore.

"Did the rift or my Mark worry you?" I risked a guess. A silence fell over us and quietly I kept my eyes down and swung my one free leg slightly. If he wanted to have this talk, he would answer. If it wasn't to be, I would only wait a few moments before packing my ass up and moving on to the next order of business.

"What does it feel like?" He asked carefully, his words meticulously chosen. His gaze fell on my head and I knew I couldn't hide like I did with other people. It wasn't about domination or fear, it was about honesty. I needed this man on my side, because I didn't need his people coming in thunderous and merciless. I couldn't be a hundred percent honest with him, but I could give him as close to it as I could get.

"Strange." I started softly, my hands wrapped around a bent knee. "Like... being smothered. Breathless. Cold. Everything echoes and comes in waves. One person screams and it just... keeps going and going." My leg swung again and dirt fell from the heel of my high-water boot. "That's what I hear, the screaming. I hear it first, and this Mark sparks like a piece of coal." My hand came up and my fingers stretched, the emerald slit in my palm was a gentle pulse.

"I can see them, too. Before they come through the rift." The memory of the last rift was painfully clear. The screams rattled through my head and the agonized terror of the spirits was fresh. My palm warmed and beat with a bit more strength and it made me wince. "And when I close the rift... It feels like someone takes a meat hook and tries to pull my tendons out through my palm."

The Iron Bull shuddered hard enough for me to notice. Silence hung between us again and strangely, I felt relieved. My shoulders were lighter and my lungs breathed easily, my chest felt warm. There was such an overwhelming sense of relief, freezing and freeing and warm all at once. Perhaps Solas was right, I couldn't keep bottling this inside, but I was so terrified of telling anyone else because I didn't want to burden them with worries they couldn't fix.

Bull had no such obligations. He didn't care for me like Cassandra, Solas, or Varric did. He didn't worry for me like Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine did. Blackwall was a worried Warden, but I got the sense from him too that he would attempt to "save" me from these emotions I was feeling, and I couldn't have that. I nearly laughed at the thought that The Iron Bull would be an unwitting safe harbor for the mess that was me.

"Bull," my voice was small, but heartfelt, "I'm _really_ glad you're here."

He blinked, his shoulder slumped and he chuckled quietly. "Yeah... me, too."

\- 0 -

I skirted my duties for most of the morning. I was supposed to return to the Chantry to talk to Josephine about getting set up to head out to Lady Vivienne De Fer's party out in Orlais, as the date was coming up by the end of the month. Cullen eyed me from the sidelines of the training field and I shamefully kept myself in Bull's shadow, claiming traumatic flashbacks that prevented me from returning to duty. Aclassi had returned with reports from the Chargers and their set up, something I listened to with interest if only to be assured that the company was comfortable.

When Bull finally caught on that I was hiding from Cullen and was making a go of teasing me about it, I packed my ass up and hauled it through the gate. Once on the other side, I checked in with Varric and huddled around his fire for a while, making sure that he had what he needed and just enjoying his company as he entertained injured or tired recruits. As the sun rose to the middle of the sky, I trotted my way toward the tavern in search of the other addition to my group of companions.

"Sera?" I found her settled on a table (not in a chair) and chewing through a piece of jerky and three or four mugs of something that sat around her. The elf grinned at me wide and kicked a chair out for me.

"Lady Herald!" She sparked brightly, shoving the rest of the jerky in her mouth. "So this is it, innit?" Confused, my head tilted, and I prompted her with a tick of my chin. Sera giggled and drained another mug out of I don't know how many. "Oh, no, it's fine, yeah? It's just, I thought it'd be bigger." My eyebrows shot close to my hairline and my brain switched gears as I tried to keep up.

She giggled again, then frowned. "Pfft, that would have been hilarious if you were a man, right? Wasted." She placed her cup down with a bang and I jumped a bit at the noise. "Anyway, stopping wars should earn more sovereigns than this. Need things back to normal for coins to be flowing again. Another reason the Templars and mages need to be sat down."

Heavily, my brows snitched together with my frown. "It's not just a war between those two."

"Well, sure, the sky has a hole in it. But I can't put an arrow in that." She replied testily, then pouted with her bottom lip. "Well, I have. Doesn't come down. That's... weird." No shit that was weird, but when did she get close enough to attempt that? Had she gotten past the guards? Who in their right mind would get that close to the hell-mouth without appropriate - no. I wasn't going to go down that road. Not yet.

"And that's the point, right?" She huffed, sliding down to a chair across from me. "It's weird and _right there_ , but they still want to punch each other. They're too busy to look up where the real questions are." Marginally, I was beginning to understand. She wasn't necessarily frightened, but normality was her foundation, and the hole in the sky had become her top priority because it upset the balance she had.

The mages and Templars fighting each other was a ridiculous notion to her, as it had been to me when Chancellor Roderick wanted to have me arrested _just at the moment_ the Breach was over our heads and spitting demons. She sounded like nonsense, but she was straightforward and brutally honest. Pleasantly surprised, I perked up when I realized I could actually follow along.

"Right, they should know it's a simple job. End all war, stitched the sky." She stared at me, herself confused for once. I grinned at her, flushed with humor. "The easy one first, of course."

She snickered wildly, eyes sparkling. "You're _daft_ , yeah? Most people get special, they lose their snerk. Can't see how stupid it all is. I think I'll like you, Lady Herald. Maybe you _are_ a little touched, yeah?"

A laugh bubbled up, "Touched in the head, maybe." That earned me another laugh and she pushed a drink toward me. I waved it off, as mead never agreed with me so early in the day. It was nothing like the beer back home. "Thanks, but I need to head up to the Chantry and get puffed up for a salon thing out in Orlais. Wish me luck."

"Don't blow anything up without me!" She hollered as I left, cracking into raucous laughter as the people in the tavern stared at her with wide eyes and worried glances. I hurried out of the tavern before Leliana or Cullen were called out on the public disturbance I had just caused. Outside, the icy wind swallowed me whole from the heat of the tavern and pushed me around as I made my way up toward Solas. The elf sat on the crates outside of his cabin and glanced up at me with a twitch of his ears.

He stood when I was close, "Shall we, then?"

"Yeah." I sighed. "Time to figure out what the hell is happening to the Mark." The door to his cabin opened before his hand touched it and I smirked at the use of magic. I bundled inside and threw myself into his bed, rolling into his blankets. A heavy snort came from behind me, but Solas dragged a chair close to his bed and sat, his legs crossed and his arms resting comfortably about his torso. I sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, holding out my hand.

"It doesn't seem anything has changed." Solas inspected my hand with a critical eye, his long fingers going across my palm. "You mentioned that it felt different than it did when you sealed the smaller rifts before the Breach?" I nodded and pulled on my thinking cap. The last thing I wanted was this thing to destroy me before I had a chance to destroy it.

"It did. When I sealed the smaller ones, they just felt like an ocean's tide. A push and pull, and then a give." I flexed my hand in his, the Mark quiet and beating just behind the pace of my heart. "The Breach felt like this last rift did. Vast and chaotic. There was so much anger and emotion that bled from it. I... I almost passed out. I wasn't prepared."

Solas shook his head and released my hand to sit back. "No, I don't imagine anyone could be. I speculate that perhaps because the Breach had been sealed, the other rifts are something similar to an overflow."

"Oh, shit." I winced and rubbed my palms together. "Copies, then? Since the Breach was closed, it's now trying to find another way to reopen?"

"Precisely." Solas nodded. He sighed deeply and held his elbows with crossed arms. "The pressure of the unstable Veil is now producing these pockets of Fade that are bursting, which is why I think you feel the same sensation as you did with the Breach."

My hands ran through my hair and hooked around my neck. "That's... not good. What if... what if it overwhelms me? What if the Mark is more than just a key? What if they can use it as... another rift?" Solas' eyes went wide and then narrowed on my face and flashed to my hand. It clenched near my pulse and the echo of its own beating pace against my heartbeat was a weird comfort.

"I do not believe you can be possessed, as you are not a mage and have no magical abilities, but..." He hesitated and looked over my face, a hint of worry marred his usually stern features. "This Mark is something completely new. I had not thought of that possibility, that it could be _another_ rift that they could sprout from as they do the others."

"Solas," I started, but he held up a hand to stop me, his eyes closed in pain.

"Yes, I know." He groused, clearing his throat. "The idea is... alarming, but I assure you, Jaime. I will do everything I can to make sure that does not happen."

"You can't promise something like that, Solas." I murmured, a sadness swirled in my lungs for Solas. This is why I didn't want to share any of this with my companions, I didn't want them to worry about things they couldn't change. "We live in a world of impossibilities now. What we once thought dreams is now reality."

His eyes flashed and his mouth set in a hard line. "Then we'll do what we can to stay out of the nightmares."

I could only hope.


	15. ACT I: Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

**Running On** **Empty:** _Slow Dancing In A Burning Room_

* * *

"So why do I need to dress up again?" I followed Josephine around as we hoofed it through the market place of Val Royeaux. It was a rare thing to see the golden bumblebee that was my ambassador out and about in a place that wasn't Haven. The end of the month was drawing near and she had dragged me to Val Royeaux a few days before Madame De Fer's salon at the estate of Duke Bastien de Ghislain. Josephine had also taken the travel time to the city of beauty to drill me on the names of nobles and guests that would be at the party. I had full confidence that I would forget each and every one of the names by the time I got to the party.

"Well, we can't rightly send you to such an event with just your armor." Josephine tutted. "And as much as Harritt's work on armor is superb, he does not have the same patience for fine clothes." The shop we were in was lavish. Tall windows that towered over us with flowing, whispering curtains of a gauzy material, the sheer cloth allowed the sun to glitter through. The walls were gold and inlaid with silver around the windows, the shelves of boots and fragile shoes lined the walls before the back exploded with coats and dresses, blouses made of feathers, and skirts with chicken wire to defy gravity.

"Josephine... I don't really have the grace for a dress." I said, carefully keeping my hands to myself. As tempted as I was to touch the tinsel that floated past me from a dress, I didn't want to pay for anything I accidentally ruined with my paws. Josephine was at the far left end, the shopkeeper's gaze tight on me as I wandered over to my ambassador.

"I wouldn't be too concerned, Herald. You're quite lovely, if plain." She said kindly. My nose scrunched in amusement and took no offense to the awkward compliment. Josephine hummed, "I think a simple, pale gold and white, no?" A shrug accompanied the blink I shot her way. What would I know of clothes? Usually I looked for leather jackets that saved me from skidding, or boots that protected my ankles. Everyday wear back home had consisted of simple sundresses with cheeky designs and jeans that I rolled up, t-shirts too big and allowed for self air-conditioning.

A fancy ballroom dress was not my area of expertise.

"Here we are." Josephine pulled out a soft cloth and held it up to view it under my head. She smiled warmly. "Yes, I think this will do. Normally we would try to get something tailored, but we just do not have the time." She shot me a small, sour look. She had planned to have a dress tailored to my frame, as that was the way of Orlais, but what with being the Herald there was no time to stop and spend a day getting poked and prodded.

"Don't you try it on first? Or, I mean, me." I chirruped curiously. Josephine stopped and slapped me with a wide eyed look.

"What? Why?" She squeaked. "If you haven't bought it yet, you would be ruining it for anyone who could." Fair, that made sense. My shoulders hunched with my head ducked and dutifully, I followed the bustling ambassador. There was small estate we had rented for the time being, just past the market and through the courtyards of some restaurants. Up the stairs and through a smooth, swaying garden of roses and petunias, we came upon our door and shuffled in with our boxes.

The Iron Bull and Warden Blackwall were lounging on the patio. Blackwall stood as soon as he spotted us and moved over to help Josephine with the box she held. The Iron Bull looked over to me and I held my box tighter to ward him off. I could carry my box just fine, thank you. To the living space I went and dropped the box down on the table. Blackwall left the other one close, on the floor, and chuckled when I dropped down into an ornate chair, my head thrown back with a sigh.

"I thought women liked shopping?" Blackwall joked and took a seat across from me.

"Sure I do," I answered with a huff. My neck strained to bring my head back up. "But, I don't normally shop for... this. You know? Nice things. I buy what I absolutely need, not things to make other people think I look pretty."

"You look just fine." Josephine soothed as she walked past us and snagged up her itinerary. "This is merely so you don't stick out like a black-eye."

"I look fabulous, thank you." I deadpanned. The heel of my right palm came up and rubbed into my eye socket. "Besides, we also had to buy things for you guys, too."

"Why?" Blackwall tossed Josephine a sharp look. "I thought we were merely there as bodyguards."

"Yes." Josephine hummed, checking off a few things on her list. She stood near us and popped open the lid of the bigger box I had set down on the table. "And you are accompanying the Herald to an event at a well-respected duke's residence, you are part of the representation." I poked my nose over the box lightly and snickered when Josephine lightly smacked my face away. "The Iron Bull is well-known around Orlais and has built a honest reputation as loyal and powerful."

"Then why am I here?" Blackwall groused and leaned back in his chair.

Lightly, I kicked his boot with mine. "Because _Warden_ Blackwall is a bit more of a respectable title than what Varric or Solas have, and it's not like we could have the Commander _and_ Josephine gone from Haven." A heavy sigh came up from the bowels of his soul and he leveled me with a dark, but amused, look. I flashed him a grin and then reached into the box before Josephine could slap my hands away and presented Blackwall with a fancy, well-pressed shirt.

"Check it out, my guy!" I hiccupped happily. "We got you this. You'll look dashing, or at least, as much as we can make it while Bull is next to ya."

"Why does his proximity to me affect the way I look?" Blackwall eyed the shirt and with a cautious glance at Josephine, took the shirt I offered him. He kept it well away from his person, doing much the same as I did to avoid "ruining" the material. No one wanted a mad Josephine on their hands or down their throats.

Another grin popped across my face. "Because _you're_ not shirtless with pecs that pop!" There was a victorious sound of The Iron Bull's choked swallow and I was shamelessly smiling at Josephine as she pinned me with a mild glare. Blackwall's face flushed pink straight to his ears and Bull had stood from his seat on the patio to lumber over to us. His shadow flooded over me and I tried to duck out of my chair as he neared us, snickering wildly.

"Please tell me you at least got me pants." He grumbled above me, his giant, missing-fingers-hand landing on my head playfully to keep me in my seat. Josephine cleared her throat and passed the second box over to Bull. My hand reached up to swat his away, but he was faster and smacked it mid-flight. "Thank you, Lady Montilyet."

"Of course, Iron Bull. It is as close to the color of dawnstone as we could find, perhaps just a touch darker." Josephine curtsied briefly and set down her check list once Bull and Blackwall's items were checked off. She turned her eyes up to me and I froze in my chair obediently, hands dashed down into my lap and my fingers laced together. "Herald, please remember that tomorrow we will be out at the spa all day, we need to clean off as much as that weathering as we can."

"Why dawnstone?" Bull rumbled, curious and confused. Josephine had turned her attention to Blackwall, as he was the other human that would need to be trimmed up and cleaned before the party. With a short turn, I looked up at him from my chair and leaned back against the armrest of it.

"You mentioned once that you liked the color." I replied. At his blank look, I gestured vaguely through the air with my hand. "Remember? When we were coming back up from the Hinterlands? Blackwall gave you some shit about it, because it was pink, but you thought it was pretty."

"You heard that?" He asked, his eye sharp on me.

I recoiled a bit, suddenly concerned that I had overstepped. "Well... yeah. I always listen to you guys. You're - you're my guys. Solas likes buttercup flowers and Varric prefers eagles feathers to corvid ones for quills, and you like dawnstone. Cassandra likes roses, Sera likes to put mustard on everything. Simple, right?" The more and more I rambled the less and less I felt like I was making sense to my hulking bodyguard. His gaze was intent on me for a long few seconds before it softened and he chuckled, shaking his massive horns and head.

"Yeah, Boss." He grinned at me. "Simple."

\- 0 -

The next day was interesting. With Josephine's permission, Iron Bull was given the green light to disappear for the day. A grin was the last that we three saw of him before he disappeared. Blackwall and I were bundled up with Josephine and dragged from our rented estate to the other side of Val Royeaux. Apparently past the market and through a few winding paths, the city opened into a near-circular collection of shops and restaurants. The place was bustling and funnily, I clung to Blackwall, alarmed by that which sparkled around us.

"Honestly." Josephine huffed. "The Iron Bull is better behaved." Blackwall and I were behind her as she led us through the street. Above us hung bouncing willow branches and flowers of some sort that I couldn't recognize. The fragrance floated through the air and it brought to stark realization how out of place Blackwall and I were with the world around us. Occasionally I would get briefly separated and made a play of holding onto the back of Blackwall's tunic.

"That's not going to help." He griped. "We're _both_ still liable to get lost."

"Shh," I tugged at the back of his tunic, "have faith we look vulnerable enough that someone would return us to the lost and found." Josephine sighed from in front of us. Blackwall smirked and I grinned, entertained that we were making Josephine so exasperated. It wasn't malicious, but Blackwall and I were uncomfortable in the situation we were place in. He, because being a Warden in the wilderness there was no need to keep his beard too trimmed or his clothes up to snuff. I was from a world were there was plenty of fashionable freedom, and though I went to get nails done now and again, or a haircut to help with fitting it in my helmet, a _spa day_ wasn't usually in my routine.

"Here we are." Josephine sighed, relieved. Before us was a gilded, baby blue building with gold trimmings and high windows and giant pillars. It was reminiscent of the drawings and pictures I had seen of Roman bathhouses for the public. I could hear the water and the chatter of people intermingle and cautiously, Blackwall and I followed our ambassador, poking our noses around with the curiosity of puppies. Josephine left us briefly to gain the attention of an attendant and soon we were separated.

"Survive," I said mockingly serious to Blackwall, channeling Tropic Thunder. Blackwall snorted and shook his head, though it did nothing to hide the flash of worry that overcame his face. Josephine waved him off and took me by the elbow, then passed me off to a female elf attendant. The girl glanced me over with a critical eye and sighed, turned on her heel and expected me to follow. With a glance at Josephine, I popped into a dash to catch up.

"Here we are, Lady Herald." The woman opened a door and I slipped inside. There was an impossibly large claw-foot tub and porcelain _everything_. Marble floors that made my shined boots feel mucky and towels crisp and pristine that every grain of dirt on my body shuddered from fear. The woman smoothly glided toward the tub and I noticed it was full with petals of lavender that smothered the surface. She tested the water with a touch of her pinky and frowned.

"The tub will be cool enough to enter once we're finished." The woman murmured with a bow of her head. I remained quiet, not out of ego, but out of sudden displacement. I didn't know how to react to most of this and merely gave her a nod. With grace I wish I could emulate, she walked toward a low table, padded with towels and cushions. "If you would, my lady, remove your armor. I will be back once you are finished and we'll begin."

"All right." I answered nervously. The woman disappeared out the door and I cast a quick look around the giant room to make sure I wasn't spied on. Even before my clothes and armor were removed, I felt naked. The room had a high, vaulted ceiling and pillars that were supporting the roof at regular intervals. Between them were curtains of translucent cloth that glimmered with a sheen of pink and copper. The trees that surrounded the room were deeply emerald and swayed peacefully.

It did nothing to calm my nerves. Sighing, I started to strip. My leather armor was well-oiled and sturdy, with Harritt's careful hand, the studs were strong and the belts far from fraying. I had a hard time imagining myself transitioning from the hardened leather to a gentle dress. Soon my outwear was shucked from my body and with a flush across my face, I stripped my undergarments as well. Hastily, I snatched up a towel and winced as my sunburned skin was stark against the fluffy white towel. The female elf returned and nodded when she took note that I had done as asked. She laid me out on the table and kept a modesty towel over my breasts and lower torso. A shuddering sigh escaped me and shook my ribs as I breathed. The woman did not hesitate to start and smiled at me briefly.

"Lady Montilyet mentioned that this was your first time in a spa, yes?" Her voice was warm and careful and did as it was practiced to do; relax me. Gently, I forced the muscles along my body to relieve their tension. It had been an _extremely_ long time since anyone, romantic or otherwise, had touched my body beyond my face and hands.

"Yes." I nodded. "Herald I may be, I'm still from the streets."

The elf smiled and took a cloth to my limbs to clean them. "So I've heard, my lady, but you hold yourself with grace."

I almost snorted at that and shrugged against the towels. My eyes closed to avoid small-talk, as I was already nervous as it was with her hands and the warm cloth clearing away some grime and dirt from my body. It wasn't long before I was dozing off as the massage started. My limbs had turned to mush under the woman's attention and I'm not sure whether or not my mouth had fallen open as I relaxed. There was a sense of peace that settled over me that I hadn't felt in all the months I was here.

"My lady Herald, if you would stand and move to the tub?" The elf chuckled as I startled awake and bolted up from instinct. Blushing hard to my ears, I chuckled and took my towels to head over to the tub. It steamed less and the smell of lavender wafted up to my nose. The woman came to my side and took the towels and I shivered at being exposed. With a careful touch of my foot and holding onto the rim of the tub, I dropped in. It was graceless and some water slipped over the side. Sheepishly, I grinned at the elf and she chuckled.

"You are not the first, my lady." The elf soothed. A hard bar of soap was produced and there was an hour spent soaking and my wild hair wrangled into domesticity. I hadn't realized how tangled it had gotten, not until I could hear the sound of scissors or shears from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see snips of my hair fall to the ground, ripped and ragged split ends, most likely. My hair was combed out and my limbs given another massage as the water cooled. Nearly half the day was passed and when I was presented to Josephine at the end of it, my ambassador's beaming smile made my heart flutter.

"Oh!" She clapped her hands together lightly. "Oh, my dear lady, you look so precious!" A barking laugh came up and ruined whatever image I presented, but Josephine laughed with me, flushed across her face. She leaned forward and picked at the soft toga-like dress I had been given in lieu of wearing my musty armor.

"That's a first, I've never been told I look _precious_." I turned to the elf woman who had my armor wrapped up in sturdy cloth and handed over to Josephine. The ambassador ducked a bit with the weight of my things and I chuckled, reaching for the things myself. "Here, let me have that, Lady Montilyet." She hesitated for a brief second before the awkward bundle of leather and metal was placed into my open arms. I hugged my possessions to my chest and bowed to the elf.

"Thank you for your services." Josephine bowed her head as well to the woman and escorted me out of the spa. I glanced around, looking for the other part of our party. Josephine caught my searching gaze and chuckled.

"Warden Blackwall was finished much earlier than you, my lady." Josephine murmured. We stepped out to the street and as the breeze of the late day passed us, I shuddered. The armor covered me from neck to toes, with only my face and ears exposed to the environment. The soft beige cloth that was wrapped around my body did little in the way of defending me against the elements. My limbs felt as if they would float away without the weight of my leathers.

"I should have realized that." I huffed. "He only had a beard to worried about."

There was a delicate snort from Josephine. "He had a bit more than just his beard, but he cleaned up quite well. Neither of you fussed as much as I would have thought."

"I _am_ an adult, Lady Montilyet." I laughed. Walking around in just sandals was strange. My boots hung from my fingers and I did my best to keep them from brushing against my legs as we walked. Still, it was liberating to have the freedom of weightlessness after the day at the spa. The smell of fresh oil and the shine of my leather led me to believe that while I had dozed, my armor had been cleaned up as well. Didn't want to chance it, either way. We arrived at the estate a little before late afternoon and Josephine stopped at the door with a servant to have dinner brought to us.

"My lady." Blackwall breathed as I dropped my armor on the table. I grinned at him, surprised by his neat beard, slicked back hair, and plucked eyebrows. He was dressed down in a simple tunic and pants, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Bull was quiet at the end of the table, his good eye flickering over both of us.

"Look at us, I think they used our weight in soap to make us sparkle." I joked. Blackwall hesitated for a second, but chuckled. Bull relaxed and leaned back in his chair, his gaze still focused on our conversation. Blackwall sighed and ran a hand down his beard, scratching at the base of his neck.

"Aye, perhaps, though you were already lovely to begin with, my lady." Blackwall murmured.

"Thanks, though what's that say about you? You didn't take as long." I laughed, and then pulled at one side of my skirt before I sat down, Blackwall huffed but appeared pleased with a gentle smirk under his beard. "You know, I almost forgot what it felt like to wear a dress."

"I don't suppose you commonly wear one while you're hunting demons." Blackwall jested. Josephine came in from behind us and tutted as she spotted my armor on the table. Hastily, I reached up to take it off and set it on a chair next to me. She approved with a nod and then sighed as she glanced over us three, all of us waited at her expectantly.

"The event at the salon will take place early afternoon tomorrow," she started with a small huff, "We'll have to be up early morning to make sure you're all dressed and presentable, and Herald, we'll go over a few more lists of names that will be attending. Blackwall and The Iron Bull will be accompanying you, but only to the ballroom. Lady Vivienne has requested a private meeting."

"Lady Vivienne is a Circle mage, right?" Bull interrupted gently. His gaze jumped between my face and Josephine's. "Will anyone be with the boss during that meeting?"

"No." Josephine's lips pursed, her hands landing on her hips. Blackwall and Bull sat straighter. She sighed, "Lady Vivienne has assured me that it will only be her and the Herald in attendance."

"I wouldn't trust it." Bull countered with a tilt of his head. His heavy body leaned back in the chair, an arm hanging down one side lazily, but his good fingers were curled tight. "Lady Vivienne may not actually want to cause any harm to the boss, but that's not going to stop anyone else from taking advantage of it."

"Come with me, then." I interjected. Three pairs of eyes turned to me and I shrugged. "Not like, in the room. Just outside the door. Make a show of it, you know? _The_ Iron Bull, just a massive Wall Of Fuck Off."

"Herald!" Josephine hiccupped, startled by my words. Bull and Blackwall barked in laughter and it only made her flush darker. Apologetic, I gave her a sheepish smile and shrugged lightly.

"I like that." Bull rumbled in amusement. "I can do that."

Josephine sighed again, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Very well. We'll have Blackwall stay in the ballroom to watch for intruders, and The Iron Bull will be at the door during the meeting."

"Great." I answered with a nod. "Doesn't sound so bad, right?"

It wasn't bad _precisely_ , but I was vastly unprepared for what I had expected the next day. Parties, big or small, back in my world needed perhaps an hour or so to get ready, hair, makeup, clothes, shoes. Here, for this party, I wasn't even allowed to touch my hair. Josephine had called in servants to help and my awkward duckling anxiety from high school kicked in as they fussed around me. It was a woman and a gentleman, both dressed to the nines with gossamer cloth and embroidered coats, masks that glimmered, and hats that swayed with their moves.

The gentleman, or whom I assumed was a gent, set to getting my hair dressed up and piled onto my head. My neck felt heavy with the additional weight, pins and twisting strings of tinsel that glinted with the turn of my head. A trail of hair went down my neck and made me shiver as the tips touched the naked space between my shoulder blades. Once he was finished, the woman had taken over and trussed me up in my dress. I adamantly refused the corset because I didn't want to have an incident of passing out from breathlessness. She huffed, but with a hand wave from Josephine, the woman agreed and slipped me into my dress and elbow length gloves. Soon after, she painted my face with a light powder and eyeliner, much to my surprise.

I felt absolutely _naked_ in the dress. It was nothing like what I had seen the citizens of Val Royeaux or even Orlais wear. It curtained from my shoulders down my chest, leaving a guess of my breasts and my back was bare down to the small space before my hips. My arms, for some reason, were more covered than anything else, and that was only when they were flat against my sides. The cloth was smooth and cold against my skin, gold and off-white. My skin in the mirror looked sunburned to hell and sun spots littered my shoulders. My mouth twisted a bit at the sight.

"You _do_ look lovely." Josephine stood behind me, adjusting the laces down my sides (did I say my back was bare? It was bare and fucking hell I felt _so_ naked).

I cleared my throat and nodded. "Y-yeah. Yeah, no, I believe you. It, uh. It feels nice. Thank you?"

"Of course." Josephine tied off the sides. She smoothed down the skirt, the length of it down to the floor (trimmed just a bit higher to avoid my graceless feet tripping on it), and straightened the blouse so that it didn't obscure my back. "There. Stunning."

"Yeah, sure." I swallowed, and glanced at Josephine through the mirror. "Josephine, can I ask something? Why is my dress different than the fashion I normally see?"

"Hmm? Oh." Josephine chuckled and moved in front of me, carefully pulling up my front and smoothing out my shoulders. "It is not _your_ style. I follow the fashions of Orlais, but I do not _wear_ them. I wanted you to stand out, to be a dove among the naysayers." She smiled at me and brought her hands up to my face, gentle so that the powder she had placed on my face wouldn't smudge.

"I guess mission accomplished?" I twitched in the dress and shifted to feel some comfort as it settled on my body. There was a mental crisis as I tried to realign my body with the movements needed for smooth cloth, rather than hard, unrelenting armor. I _did_ feel lovely, as Josephine said, it just took some time to grow accustomed to it (again). She smiled and nodded, drawing a soft, beige shawl over my shoulders and wrapped around my arms. A servant slipped my feet into high, beige colored boots with slight heels and out the door we went.

The embarrassment finally struck me in the chest when Blackwall and Iron Bull laid eyes on me. My ears went red hot and I tried to keep my chin up as I walked to the curve of the street with Josephine, the carriage to take us to the salon pulling up quickly. Blackwall was dressed up to his Adam's apple in a black coat and trousers, a shield at his back and a brightened (new) sword at his hip. His hair was sleek back and his beard tamed. It made his face all the more intense.

The Iron Bull was harder to look at, he wore what Josephine and I had picked out for him, a deep pinkish red pair of pants with leather boots and his ankle brace, but as a shirt or tunic couldn't be pulled over his head, Josephine had _somehow_ found a black vest to pull over his shoulders and hide most of his upper body. Desperately, I tried not to stare, because despite the vest covering more than his shoulder piece had, it drew a lot more attention to his muscles. _Fuck, I'm gonna get caught. Eyes up, Jaime. Attracted to someone outside of my species. Is that allowed?_

"What's up?" I attempted for casual, because I wasn't about to be caught staring, I already looked sunburned as it is.

Blackwall hesitated and then cleared his throat. "Nothing, my lady. You look lovely." Bull's chest rumbled with a chuckle off to my right and I felt renewed embarrassment flush through my stomach, a shiver of heat twitched down my spine. I shot him a sideways glare and hung onto the edges of my shawl to give my twitching, nervous fingers something to do.

"Hey, easy." The Qunari's amusement echoed through his words. "You look great, boss. You'll knock 'em dead."

"Probably solve a few problems if I did." My shoulders relaxed, Bull's sense of calm and humor soothed my ruffled feathers. Blackwall's sideways glances were making me itch with fried nerves and shivers. The carriage finally arrived and before the driver could step off, Blackwall stepped forward and drew the door open for Josephine and myself. Josephine, taking pity on me, allowed me to enter first in case she needed to catch me. Bull held out his hand and gratefully, I took it with a weak smile and stepped up to take a seat.

"It won't be a long ride, I promise." Josephine murmured with a smile, adjusting her customary attire. She had elected to keep her golden and royal blue clothes. She sat across from me and smoothed down her pressed dress. "An hour, at most." Iron Bull took the back of the carriage and sat facing out, watching the road behind us as Blackwall took the seat next to the driver. I was sitting with my back to Bull and poked my head out of the window as the carriage started to move.

"That was nice of you," I teased, "taking the back seat like that."

"Oh?" Bull glanced down at me, his good eye crinkled with amusement. "Why do you say that?"

"You're not going to accidentally knock our driver unconscious with just a turn." I grinned up at him. He barked a laugh and shook his head.

"Oh, thanks, Boss." Gently, he reached around and pushed my head back inside, careful of the decoration in my locks of hair. "Get back inside, there's only so much of you I can handle in a day, let's not waste it."

"Ass." I laughed and obeyed, settling in for the long ride.

\- 0 -

After the hour of the most uncomfortable ride I had ever taken in my life (this one and the last), we poured out of our carriage into the crowded, circular pathway that led up to the chateau. Other carriages were parked all around and shaded by the plant life that swayed and bobbed around them, the horses nibbled at what they could reach.

Josephine straightened to attention and quickly set about dusting off our men, clearing their pants or vests of any lingering traces of dust or dirt. Pointedly, I kept my attention ahead of me toward the towering entrance of the chateau and waited for Josephine's signal. We marched up the stairs under the curious gaze of a few attendees that stood outside. The guards at the doors pulled them open simultaneously and greeted us with a strange salute and bow as we walked inside.

The place was an explosion of noise and a storm of colors. Much like the rest of Orlais, drapes of ornate cloth hung down pillars and covered the windows. People parted as they witnessed us coming and reflexively I pulled my chin up. A hard swallow went down my throat, burned and itchy, but I maintained the illusion of confidence. These people were a portion of who we needed to impress, as their support kept us afloat.

Iron Bull and Blackwall stayed a pace behind me, their shadows played close with mine as we wandered into the fray of decorated masks and giggling patrons. My hands gripped my shawl sleeves tightly and I smiled stiffly at any fake eyes that turned my way. Honestly, I couldn't tell a person from a statue unless they laughed or moved, it was all just lavishly adorned with riches.

"You doing all right?" Bull murmured from above my head. Deeply, an inhale grew in my lungs and I exhaled slowly with a nod. A poor attempt was made to relax my shoulders and I winced at the sudden spark of laughter that echoed from my left. I was thankful for the gloves that muted the emerald glint of the Mark.

"I'm treading water, at least." I answered with a glance up at him. His brow was raised with gentle concern, but with a look over my face, he nodded.

"Alright." His head tilted, horns menacing in the low light. "If you need a breather, remember, I'm your wall."

I relaxed at that, and smiled truly up at him. "Yeah. Thanks, Bull." Josephine ushered us along through the hallway to the main foyer that had the greatest collection of attendees. A fountain lay at the center and twin staircases that split off to the left and right, into other wings of the chateau. My lungs shuddered with an inhale, but I wrangled my confidence into place. I had Bull and I had Blackwall and Josephine was in her element. We could do this.

"Presenting Lady Welton of Ferelden, representing the Inquisition!" The servant called out as we entered through the main section. "Accompanied by Lady Montilyet, ambassador of the Inquisition forces, followed by Warden Blackwall of Ferelden, and Commander The Iron Bull of the Bull's Chargers Mercenary Company!" If we hadn't made an entrance before, we did now. The whole parlor turned to us nearly in unison and it was only the combined effort of Blackwall and Bull's hands at my back that pushed me forward.

Traitorous bastards.

I forced a smile to my lips and bowed my head as Josephine had taught me to do. Not a full bow, but enough to be deemed respectful. I was the Herald, after all, and my head had to be raised a smidgen higher than the rest (according to her). Another low exhale and we mingled, Josephine left with a touch to my arm to find Lady Vivienne (as the Herald, I couldn't go wandering around, lost, as it was more impactful to have them come to me). As she vacated my right side, Bull filled it readily.

"All these whispers." Blackwall muttered with a heavy look around the place. "You'd think the Herald sprouted three heads."

"Well, I would count the Qunari for three alone, what with his horns." I reflexively joked. Relief flooded me as Blackwall shot me a dead expression and Bull snorted, chuckling next to me. No one approached, though many of them looked insatiably curious. Seemed no one was brave enough to tango around the dark Warden and the looming Qunari.

"Guys," I murmured to them, "give me some space, yeah? I need to talk to these people and get a feel for the place."

"We'll be close." Blackwall answered with a careful glance over my face. He disappeared into the crowd with the Iron Bull and a sigh echoed from my stomach. The people around me relaxed and as I wandered over to the fountain to sit, I was approached by a pair of brightly plumed people.

"A pleasure, my lady." A man with a horned headdress and golden mask bowed to me. "We so rarely have a chance to meet anyone new. It is always the same crowd at these parties."

"I'm happy to be a novelty." I greeted with a bow of my head, trying to channel Josephine's grace into my bones. The woman next to him giggled appreciatively and curtsied quietly.

The man nodded, "So you must be a guest of Madame De Fer. Or are you here for Duke Bastien?"

"Are you here on business?" The woman added gently. "I have heard the most curious tales of you. I cannot imagine half of them are true."

I resisted the urge to shrug as was habit. "I actually haven't heard much of Duke Bastien."

"He hasn't been seen much at court lately." The woman dropped her chin mournfully.

"His business with the Council of Heralds often takes him from home for long periods." He tossed a look between his companion and I, "It can't be good for a man of his years."

"And of course there is the civil war!" The woman huffed through her frilled collar. "Bastien probably wishes to distance himself from the actions of his one-time son-in-law." I perked at the information and my back straightened. I had a vague recollection of the war that ripped through the land on top of the Breach's presence. Josephine and Leliana had not spent too much time on the politically doings of Empress Celene or her cousin Duke Gaspard, but I could at least remember names.

The man shook his decorated head. "Tearing up the Dales in a foolish bid for power? It will end in disgrace for Gaspard. Everyone knows it." _Stay away from giving your opinion on anything,_ Josephine trilled from a memory. I cleared my throat and smiled, nodding absently and turned my attention to the woman, perhaps she was a safer option.

"You mentioned you've heard things of me?" I grinned a bit, softening the question. "What _have_ you heard?"

"Some say that when the Veil opened, Andraste Herself delivered you from the Fade." The hat over her head and the mask obscured much of her face, so I couldn't tell if she was sincerely amazed by the story or found it a joke. I shuffled a bit on my feet, the shawl drawn tight over my shoulders as I hastily thought up something safe to say.

"Well, those storytellers may have gotten a bit carried away." I chuckled, playing the part of humility. I still didn't believe for a moment that their deity had delivered me as their salvation, but I couldn't rightly turn the idea down because it would undo what Leliana and Josephine worked so hard to build around us.

The woman giggled. "But only for the best effect. The Inquisition is a ripe subject for wild tales."

"The Inquisition? What a load of pig shit!" The crowd around me went deadly quiet as the new voice broke out above us. Alarmed, I look up to see another elaborately dressed man trot down the staircase with a heavy step, his pace lazy and confident. My eyes ignored most of his costume to narrow in on the rapier hilt that I could see just over his shoulder.

I was unarmed, but _this_ type of footwork I was familiar with, and cast a subtle look around for my men. Blackwall I couldn't see, but Bull was already prowling around the outside of the pillars, his eyes nailed to the unknown threat. He stayed away in the shadows as I pinned him with a look, but hunkered down within charging distance. I prayed no one got run over by a rampaging bull.

"Washed-up Sisters and crazed Seekers?" The new man scoffed as he reached the bottom of the stairs. "No one can take them seriously." He stepped toward me and my spine starched at his proximity, the Iron Bull took a few steps around the pillar but continued to hold his position as I turned to follow the newcomer and keep my back away from him.

Blackwall was behind me as I turned, his gaze darkened with the promise of swift retaliation. The same sensation of easy and strange relaxation (or confidence) soothed my limbs and muscles as it had when I was surrounded by my companions upon meeting Blackwall. Nothing could seriously hurt me as long as I had them around. Gracefully, I turned on my heel fully to face the masked instigator.

"Everyone knows it's just an excuse for a bunch of political outcasts to grab power." The man faced me, his shoulders squared and his chin held high.

I matched it with a lowered chin, a profile of my body in case he lunged. "I never made any claims to holiness. What's your point?"

He laughed. "In front of all these people, you admit to being a _pretentious usurper!_ " He neared me this time, taking careful steps to be within arm's reach of my body. I stiffened, surprised that it wasn't out of fear for myself, but the fact that I had seen Bull's shoulders square up and the shadow of Blackwall's passing form come up behind me.

The mouth beneath the mask grinned, triumphant. I worried that he had no idea how close he courted pain.

"We know what your _Inquisition_ truly is." He murmured to me, eyes dark behind his mask. "If you were a woman of honor and not some street rat, you'd step outside and answer the charges." Bull came up behind him, appearing with deadly intent, his hand coming up to snag the instigator's hand as he reached for the rapier.

It wasn't needed, for as soon as the man had moved, in the split second it took my men to reach me and for my feet to step back, ice wrapped around the masked man's body and caged him. His head was freed from the prison, but nothing else could move in the winter's grasp. Bull and I shared a surprised look before his attention refocused and he left the masked man and came around to my side, hovering near my back to defend it. Blackwall's hand was on his sword as he took up my left side.

"My dear Marquis." A honeyed voice carried over us. With a look up, upon the other staircase stood Josephine and what I had to assume was Madame De Fer, poised with her hand raised and the glow of a spell around her fingers. Together they came down, Josephine inches from worry, but she remained at Madame De Fer's side.

"How unkind of you to use such language in my house... to _my_ guests." The last word turned as icy as the prison that held the marquis. Blackwall kept his focus on the women as they came down the stairs and clung to my left side like static to discourage anyone else approaching. The shadow of Bull's horns crowned the shadow of my head on the floor.

Madame De Fer came down the steps and around the Marquis like a vision of gilded hell. Her attire was like nothing I had seen in Orlais, sleek and crested in silver designs and gold trimmings. The blouse was cut down the center and left little to the imagination of her figure, to the point that I flushed and kept my eyes to her face. I was confident, or getting there, but this woman was power incarnate.

 _I have such a long way to go._

"You know such rudeness is... intolerable." The word rolled off her tongue like a warmed growl. She faced the marquis and then held his face in an unrelenting grip, forcing him to look at her.

"M-madame Vivienne, I h-humbly beg your pardon!" The marquis seemed to shake in her hold and I wasn't sure if that was the freeze of the spell getting to him, or the stare that Madame De Fer used to smelt his bones.

"As you should." She answered coldly. "Whatever am I going to do with you, my dear?" Gracefully, she turned slightly on her heel to spare me a glance over her shoulder. Josephine appeared behind her and returned to my unoccupied right side. Lady Vivienne smiled slowly.

"My Lady," she addressed me and my back snapped to attention, "you're the wounded party in this unfortunate affair. What would you have me do with this foolish, foolish man?" She hadn't released his face and I could see fear flicker through the marquis' eyes. Death and torture and torment weren't my style, so I forced myself to relax and seem as gentle as I could manage with a bull at my back and a hardened Warden at my side.

"I think the marquis has seen the error of his ways." I replied softly, hoping she caught my meaning.

"By the grace of Andraste," Lady Vivienne swiveled back to the marquis, hand firm on his chin, "you have your life, my dear. Do be more careful with it." With a snap of her fingers, the spell was released and the marquis melted back into his bones, shivering either from fear or relief. Coughing, he beat a hasty retreat and glared a few daggers at me as he did. Lady Vivienne returned her eyes to me and smiled under her horned mask.

"I'm delighted you could attend this little gathering. I've so wanted to meet you." Her eyes scanned over the faces of Blackwall and the Iron Bull, both men unyielding in their positions of protection. With a shaking hand held up, I eased them away from my side and bowed my head to Lady Vivienne. Another smile graced me from her and she led me off toward another section of her home, a small, cool room with an open window and small desk off to one corner. Blackwall stayed with Josephine, but the Bull followed us until the door. He stopped and leveled Lady Vivienne with a heavy look and then glanced at me with a gentler one before the door closed.

She ignored the desk and walked toward the window. I humored the dramatic choice and followed her, taking the other side of the window and adjusting my shawl against the breath of cold that came in from the window as the sunlight faded.

"Allow me to introduce myself." She bowed her head briefly. "I am Vivienne, First Enchanter of Montsimmard and Enchantress to the Imperial Court."

"A pleasure," I murmured, and spied the marquis' carriage as it pulled away from the salon's pathway, "... is that marquis going to pose a problem?"

She chuckled. "HIs aunt is the Vicomtesse of Mont-De-Glace. Not a powerful family, but well respected... and very devout." She glanced out of the window only for a second. "Alphonse will be disowned for this. It's not the first time he's brought his aunt disgrace, but I'm sure it'll be the last."

I sighed, it was another issue that Josephine would have to make sure didn't explode back in our faces. Lady Vivienne caught my look with a tilt of her head that was similar to the gesture I had seen from Bull on occasion.

"After such a public humiliation, I expect he'll run off to the Dales to join the Empress' war effort." Her chin raised, her eyebrow ticked under the mask. "Either to make a good end or to win back a modicum of self-respect." So perhaps Josephine would have a little less on her plate to deal with than I originally thought.

A weak smile touched my lips and I bowed my head, "Well, I'm pleased to meet you, Lady Vivienne."

"Ah," she smiled bright under her mask, lips full and painted, "but I didn't invite you to the chateau for pleasantries. With Divine Justinia dead, the Chantry is in shambles. Only the Inquisition might restore sanity and order to our frightened people."

 _One could hope,_ my thoughts grumbled.

Lady Vivienne shifted, "As the leader of the last loyal mages of Thedas, I feel it only right that I lend my assistance to your cause."

Confused, I asked, "You say you lead the last of the loyal mages. Loyal to whom?"

"To Thedas, of course." She smirked and brushed something from her wrist. "We have not forgotten the commandment, as some have, that magic exists to serve man. I support any effort to restore such order."

"You do realize we aren't sanctioned by the Chantry, right?" I hesitated. There was any number of things I could have asked her, but nerves got the better of me. I wondered how she, and not Fiona, had come to be in this position of power.

Lady Vivienne frowned, shaking her head. "The Chantry is leaderless. They're in no position to officially sanction _anything_. Besides, my dear, if there is one virtue the Chant of Light teaches us, it is forgiveness." A ruffled memory fluttered through my mind, a time back when I had mentioned the same thing to Bull, _better to ask for forgiveness than permission._ Oh, boy. That was going to bite me in the ass, wasn't it?

"Once the Inquisition has sealed the Breach, I'm sure the new Divine will not care in the slightest about official permission." She answered. It was truth, I couldn't assume that a majority of the Chantry was like Chancellor Roderick simply because Commander Cullen did have a point. The Mothers, Sisters, and Brothers that screamed the loudest at me were usually the ones that weren't important enough to be considered influential in the grand scheme of things. If they were, they'd be busy swaying their peers into supporting them, not shouting down the Inquisition on a daily basis.

"May I ask, Lady Vivienne, what could you bring to the Inquisition?" I posed the question to her lightly. I wasn't going to fool her, I stood on shaky confidence that I only barely commanded.

She shifted on her feet and considered the question for a second. "I am well versed in the politics of the Orlesian Empire, I know every member of the Imperial Court personally. I also have all the resources remaining to the Circle at my disposal." She paused for a heartbeat, the gentlest of smirks touching her lips. "And I'm a mage of no small talent. Will that do?" Within the span of seconds, I knew I couldn't turn her away. I had a mage, true, and it was more likely than not that I would drag Solas out with me than I would Lady Vivienne, but her knowledge would be _essential_ to Josephine.

"I'm hard-pressed to assume that you threw this little salon just for me." I murmured thoughtfully with a glance over her horned mask. "Is this an extension of the Imperial Court? Will you be assisting us from there?"

A sigh, "Ordinarily, I would be happy to serve as a liaison to the court, but these are not ordinary times. The Veil has been ripped a part, and there is a hole in the sky." She straightened her back and for a moment I saw a flicker of uncertainty. Did she think she was losing my willingness to have her along? She continued, her voice strong. "It is now the duty of every mage to work toward sealing the Breach. And so I would join the Inquisition on the field of battle." A shiver ran down my spine at her conviction. She sounded much like Blackwall and Leliana, or any number of my people.

They had courage. They had a bite that followed their pride. They _wanted_ to fight. Again, I felt something wilt in me, a shame that I worked hard to bury. She would have been a better Herald than I, perhaps like Blackwall would have been, as they were willing to face the destruction of the world. I smothered the thought, as it would do nothing to change the here and now.

"What do you get out of this, Lady Vivienne?" The question escaped me before I could filter it through niceties. Her dark gaze met mine with a solid pull, there was no hesitation, no falter in her belief that this was the path she was meant to take. It pulsed from her like the tide and the Mark under my glove hummed at the sensation. I gripped my hand in my shawl to silence it.

"The same thing that everyone would get facing this chaos." She murmured confidently. "The chance to meet my enemy, to decide my fate. I won't wait quietly for destruction." She was as I had imagined, strong, powerful, and an relentless force of will. Like Bull, like the Qunari, even if I turned her away, she would find another way to face the unraveling of her world. Not for the first time I wish I could mirror their confidence, their sense of self righteous duty.

Instead, I gave her a weak smile and nodded, "The Inquisition will be happy to have you, Lady Vivienne."

"Great things are beginning, my dear." She beamed at me. "I can promise you that."

 _I don't think that's a promise I can keep._

* * *

 **Note:** Hola, guys. So this is gonna be the last update for the next two weeks. I have 2 birthdays coming up for family members this weekend and the next, but after that, we should be back on schedule (hopefully I don't fall into my same bad habit of letting a story wither out because I left it alone for too long).


	16. ACT I: Why Do You Fill Me Up

**Note:** _Been gone a while. Back on track. Still have a few chapters lined up now, hopefully I can keep ahead of the game. Updates might move to every OTHER week, as we're hitting the busy season on work, but no worries, this story will continue (Mass Effect: Andromeda aside)_

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 **Running On Empty:** _Why Do You Fill Me Up_

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The rest of the party went relatively smooth. Lady Vivienne was an excellent host and went through the motions of soothing her guests and making small talk of the incident with the Herald and the Marquis. I attempted to mingle with those around me, but my levels of anxiety had started to rise and the same nakedness I had felt before had returned. I said nothing to my companions, but the Iron Bull remained at my back, silent and watchful. He warded off any unwanted attention or talk and for that, I was grateful.

As the party started to dwindle, Josephine returned to us with the news that Lady Vivienne was going to travel with our company. My nose scrunched at the idea, but I said nothing. The Enchantress was under the impression that she was needed, and she was, but not desperately. Still, logic overruled my ruffled feathers; Lady Vivienne would have to take up residency in Haven anyway, and work with the Inquisition. Traveling with us allowed her to kill as many birds as she could with a single spell.

That didn't mean I was any more comfortable with having a new person at my back, but I trusted Bull, and Blackwall had wiggled his way into being another companion I could turn to for help. I suppose she could turn out to be the same way.

This is what had us packed up and marching toward Haven. In all actuality, I wanted to head toward the Hinterlands, to check on the progress of the watchtowers and if anyone had found the caches, as well as review Scout Harding's reports about the Fallow Mire. There was also the matter of Redcliffe and Grand Enchanter Fiona. I wasn't going to touch the Templar issue with a ten-foot pole, not yet.

There was a tug at my ear and instinctively I reached up and smacked the hand away. Bull's chuckle echoed in my ears and with a flush, I glared at him over my shoulder. He grinned at me, cheeky on top of his horse.

"What are you doing, troublemaker?" I said with a snort and rubbed at my reddened ear. Glancing around, there was no one else's attention on us. Lady Vivienne was at the front of the traveling party with Josephine, engaged in conversation. Blackwall sat straight on his horse, but the droop of his shoulders told me he was nodding off; our small group was making good time toward Haven.

"You were thinking too hard. I could see the steam come out of your ears." He gently urged his horse's pace to match that of Avonal's and came to be side by side with me.

I snorted again. "Was not, am not. There's... just a lot to do."

"Opinion time?" He offered, recalling the spotlight I had placed on him back when we had roamed the Storm Coast.

"Yeah, okay." I laughed. "Opinion time. So. We have the Hinterlands, again, always in a constant state of chaos. We have reports finally from Scout Harding about the Fallow Mire, but it has me worried because she normally doesn't take so long to survey an area." Avonal's ears swiveled at the sound of my voice, it was a rare thing that he got to hear his rider speak during travel. " _Then_ we have this, this _thing_ with the mages back in Redcliffe, also in the Hinterlands, and finally the Templars - who knows where the fuck they've gone."

"Hmm." Bull shifted in his saddle and scratched at his chest. I kept my eyes forward. "Well. We can follow in a straight line. We get to Haven, check up with everyone, do your paperwork, then after that we can head out to the Hinterlands and finish up loose ends there before heading down to the Fallow Mire." It was pretty much the same plan I had thought to take, but my self-confidence still wavered on the fence.

A sigh escaped me. "That's what I came up with, too, I just..." _Second guess myself a lot._ Bull was quiet as he rode beside me, his gaze on the traveling troops. A minuscule amount of shame iced my lungs. I shared nothing with the Qunari, I couldn't make decisions without second guessing them, I couldn't command troops without stuttering, I was incapable of standing tall in the face of danger or destruction.

I was the weakest link holding the wrecking ball where it matter most.

"We're going to head home," I forced my voice steady and raised my head, "check in with Cullen. We'll assess the situation of the Fallow Mire and depending on what we find, I'll either send the Chargers back to the Hinterlands and clear a path to Redcliffe or to the Fallow Mire to help with the rescue." My right hand came up to rub at my forehead and temple, a headache was forming behind my ears.

"Sure thing, boss." Bull answered lightly. The answer felt stilted, but I didn't know if that came from my own projections of uncertainty or if he truly agreed with my planning. I was too nervous to ask and so instead, let it go and stewed in my confusion.

The rest of the trip was quiet and we arrived in Haven within days. Once again my traveling companions were dashed to the winds upon arrival and Josephine and I were left to find space for Lady Vivienne back in the Chantry. I made the off handed comment to Josephine about giving up the cabin I stayed in for the enchantress.

"Are you sure?" Josephine asked hesitantly, her hands fidgeting with the papers on her desk. "We can surely find her somewhere else to stay...?"

I shook my head. "Josephine. I have no doubt that if she had to buckle down and rough it out, she _could_ , but it's just easier if I pack up the _nothing_ I have and sleep somewhere in a tent. Varric does it, why can't I?"

My ambassador remained stiff. "Yes, well, but you're the Herald. We wouldn't want you appearing tired or -"

"Josephine." I cut her off gently. I waited for her gaze to meet mine. "I'm _always_ tired. The Mark never rests and neither do I. It's okay." Something crumbled behind her expression, a twisting pain that muted her eyes for just a moment. Guilt flirted with my organs and squeezed them tight, but I brushed it away. It was the truth. I only slept when I was exhausted, and I was constantly on the move, it was a never-ending game of borrowed time and energy.

"We'll see." Josephine rebuffed gently. "For now, we have a small section in the Chantry that is unused. She may stay there." I wasn't about to fight with my fiery ambassador as I had seen her talk down spitting nobles and righteous Chantry members. Meek though she appeared, she was still a head of the The Hydra and had no qualms about reminding me of it.

Quietly and with a wave to Minaeve, I left to do my rounds. I found the Commander in the War Room with Cassandra, pouring over the maps again. I shut the door behind me with a sigh and shuffled up next to my viper, leaning heavily against her side. Cassandra, bless her, made no move to dislodge me and continued with her planning, moving pieces and making notes. The Commander graced me with a curious look.

"I don't like politics." I answered his curious expression. Both he and Cassandra snorted simultaneously and a surprised laugh popped from my mouth. The Commander flushed along his cheeks and rubbed at his neck, his eyes cast down to the maps.

"I don't think anyone does, honestly." He grunted. "We've been attempting to field Chantry inquiries for weeks now and it seems to be getting worse."

"They're nervous." Cassandra shifted and I made sure not to slip. I leaned my hips against the table and rested my right hand on the surface, my Mark hidden behind my back. Cassandra rumbled low, her voice heavy. "They're trying to find our cracks and exploit them."

"Tell them I'm an abyss." I japed. "There are no cracks, only the fall." It was meant as a joke, but it _may_ have been a bit too dark for my current audience. Cassandra and Cullen leveled me with worried looks and I gave them a sigh instead. With a wave of my hand, I looked down to the maps and tapped on the spot marked for the Fallow Mire. "What's the report from Scout Harding?"

"Leliana will have that." Cassandra answered briskly. "She should be finishing up with her people within the hour."

I nodded and turned to Cullen. "What's the status on the watchtowers?"

"It's been only three weeks since your departure, but we've managed to set up one. The other two are still in construction." He answered with squared shoulders. A heavy exhale rushed through my nose and I ran my hand down my chin, thoughtful. My eyes danced over the map and noted the different sections that had new pawns on them, new markers, notes stuck with scraps of parchment.

"Right." I murmured and caught their attention again. "Commander, depending on what I hear from Leliana, I need you to prep the troops for departure. I think - I want us to head out to the Fallow Mire and find our missing men."

Cullen stiffened. "... we've also found the men we lost on the Storm Coast."

"What?" My gaze was sharp enough to make him flinch the smallest amount. "When? Where are they?"

"Dead." Cassandra offered quietly. "For weeks, it seems, though we cannot truly tell as their bodies were swollen by the rains and rivers." I shut my eyes and tightened my muscles as a vicious shudder ran through my limbs. I lost men every day to the Templars and mages, to the unknowns that held rifts in their shadows, to demons and the like... but Harding had told me of these men and I had left them.

 _Knowingly_ I had left them to their fates, unaware if they had been dead or alive.

"Where's the Mercy Crest?" I asked lowly to Cullen.

The man swallowed and held the pommel of his sword. "It'll arrive within a few days time, Herald. The jewel took longer to set due to the quality of rock."

"Send it to the Storm Coast." I commanded with a rough voice. Anger soured under my tongue and sorrow warred under my breast and turned my stomach to bile. "Have Requisitions Officer Jenal hold it for me until I get there. Tell her to keep her men close and only push if she's encroached, but no more."

Cullen's eyes darkened and he nodded. "Understood, Herald. Are you headed to speak to Leliana, then?"

"I am." Gently, I placed a hand on Cassandra's arm. Her eyes turned to me, burning with the same anger I felt. "Assist Cullen with preparing the troops. We'll stop by Dennett's and get our horses. I'm not waiting anymore," My eyes turned to Cullen and a touch of a snarl curled the corner of my mouth, "I'm not losing more men in the Fallow Mire if I don't have to."

"Aye," Cassandra and Cullen breathed together with nods of their heads. I needed to hit something, but I also needed to finish this before I went off and acted like a child. My feet carried me through the Chantry and by the time I arrived at Leliana's tent, the last of her scouts were leaving. She noticed my approach and sighed with a tilt of her head.

"They told you." She said softly. My eyebrow ticked over my forehead and she sighed again. "I had asked them to wait, but I suppose now is better than never." She waved me over toward her table and there she had her own scrolls and maps spread out. She pulled up Scout Harding's report but didn't hand it to me. My reading comprehension was a slow progression, but now was not the time to test me. Leliana's eyes scanned over the document and flipped to a second page before she nodded.

"The Fallow Mire seems diseased." Leliana looked up to me. "According to Harding, there might have been a plague or something that ran through. There are no people aside from the Inquisition and perhaps a mage in the fog. Our patrol was taken hostage."

"When?" I asked with a cold fury that started at my fingers. "Are they dead? Is there a ransom?"

Leliana nodded. "They're alive, as far as we know. The Avvar Chieftain's son took them hostage and now demands that you come for them. He won't release them otherwise." I desperately tried to keep my anger from choking me. It was one thing when someone poked and prodded at me, when they spat my name and heeled it into the ground, but these men and women fought with an indomitable force of will that I admired and respected. _No one_ was going to use these people like pawns, like chips in a game.

The Mark pulsed in my palm, trembling in my limb. I silenced it with a clench of my fingers.

"We head for the Fallow Mire." I told her and held her gaze. My spine was shivering and I held back the urge to scream. I had killed more than a hundred people since I had arrived, in brutal deaths with the end of my maul. I had nightmares of screams from the void that was the Veil and the dead that landed on my feet, faceless and nameless souls that swarmed me. These men and women, though, had faced the danger voluntarily, and to let them die...

The men I had lost at the Storm Coast to the Blades of Hessarian came to mind, and I swore I wouldn't let my people fall to my indecisions anymore.

"Herald?" Leliana tipped her head to catch my gaze. When I looked up, I could feel tears sweep down my face and I took a shuddering inhale. Shame made my body shake and the icy fury had crawled from my fingertips to my elbows and shoulders. My muscles itched and clung to my bones as the tension gripped me.

"If people want to pick a fight with me," I growled wetly, my chin trembling, "then they come after _me._ No one else. _Anyone_ takes their frustrations out on my people and they're going to see _hell_." They didn't deserve it, these people beyond my inner circle were unaware of my inadequacies and trusted me to be the savior, the herald that they wanted. They trusted that at the end of all things, I had their best interests at heart. The fact that I allowed men to die on my watch for no real reason aside from convenience tore at my soul.

"Jaime." Leliana's voice softened in a way I hadn't heard in months. Her hands came up to my shoulders, then my neck and finally my face. She held me gently and the tears continued. Her thumbs ran over my cheeks and cleared away the tears that fell. "Oh. Oh, my dear. I forget so often how... strange this is for you." She played her words carefully, being out in the open where anyone could eavesdrop.

"It's been nearly a year." I hiccupped and held her wrists.

"I know, but that is not a lifetime of what is the norm for us here." She whispered soothingly. "Now I see why you were so adverse to my decision with our traitor. Jaime, you - we will lose people every day. I understand how this could cut so deep for someone who is not accustomed to it."

"We shouldn't let it be the norm." I muttered with a sniff. She paused and looked over my messy face. I shook my head in her hands. "If we let death and destruction numb us, we're no better than our enemies."

She smiled softly, an echo of empathy warmed her eyes. "... there are times when you say things... But, you are right. I am sorry. All I ask is that you do not become blinded by your emotions. See the path you walk and tread carefully."

"Yes, ma'am." I hiccupped again. She nodded and once again her mask fell into place, the ice of her position hardened her eyes and straightened her mouth. My lungs pulled hard and with a few careful, controlled breaths, I regained my composure. Leliana waited until my gaze finally focused on her again. My jaw was held tight, my words firm. "If the Fallow Mire is diseased, send the Chargers to the Hinterlands and have them liberate the road toward Redcliffe Village. I'll see who'd be willing to go with me to the Fallow Mire."

Leliana chuckled. "If you keep that expression on your face, I can think of several who would willingly throw themselves at the chance." A snort flared my nose and I nodded to her, excusing myself from her tent. She would get the word to Cullen. At the moment my soul was a cyclone under the cage of my ribs and my heart felt shrunk under the weight of my guilt. Leliana's words helped, focused me, but I still needed to work through my emotions before I threw up from the turbulence.

I couldn't go to Varric. For as much as I had come to love him like a brother and I missed him, to suddenly appear with the thundercloud of distress would alarm him enough to make him painfully nervous. Solas had been absent from Haven and from what I could gather, he had disappeared to study the Breach while he could (not that I blamed him, after our discussion about my Mark, he was probably worried about what he _didn't_ know). Cassandra was busy with Cullen and Sera was a bit more of a handful that I wasn't ready to handle. Lady Vivienne was an unknown and Blackwall's intensity was more than I wanted.

My feet marched me toward the tent of the Iron Bull. I came down along the Chantry when a conversation floated toward me as I passed the corner of the humble church.

"Did I see you walk out of the Iron Bull's tent this morning?" A Chantry sister laughed, muffling it behind a hand.

The second one shushed her. "It was nothing, really... I just wanted to thank him for allowing his healer to help with some of the wounded. We've been able to save a lot of lives because of him."

"Is that why you're walking funny?"

"Well. I thanked him a _few_ times, and then later, he thanked me in return." The second one snickered. "All in all, it was a _very_ grateful night all around."

My stomach sank through to the soles of my feet and it only added to the turmoil of the thundering emotions that I had ringing through my ears. The fact that he slept with anyone in Haven shouldn't have surprised me, he was a free man to do what he wanted but it was so jarring to _hear_ that someone else had been attracted to him. My feet continued to carry me with no true path ahead, just one step in front of another, all the steam that had propelled me forward now absent. It was ridiculous how the blow struck me, because he wasn't even _mine_ to begin with, we had nothing.

It was a crush, but apparently I had reverted back to high school when I found out Tom Matthew gave me a flower but turned around to ask Ashley Winsy out to the local pumpkin festival. Why would I even feel any inclination of affection for him, anyway? The man wanted me dead because of the Mark on my hand, for all that he played the friend, the defender, I was out of my mind to forget that he and his people wanted me _dead_ because I was connected to the hell-mouth that sat above us.

 _You're throwing blame that doesn't exist,_ my mind chided me gently.

A figurative bucket of ice water crashed over my head.

I returned to my cabin and was tempted to throw myself into my bed and curl up under my blankets and allow the sickened emotions roll their way through until I forgot or I feel asleep. My eyes found my maul leaned against my bed and weakly I renewed my strength and gripped my maul, straightened my leathers, and walked out through the front gate. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Varric follow my back as I walked away, and Lieutenant Aclassi blinked in surprised as I passed him down the stairs and traveled past the training dummies.

My soldiers couldn't see me lose my shit on a dummy. I wasn't Cassandra. I had the title of _Herald_ that rested over my head and if the Herald was losing her mind and crying at the desperation of it all, it would not end well and then Josephine would get involved. I did _not_ need that added to the pile of steaming emotional shit that had settled into my stomach. My maul was slung over my shoulder and I trekked through the snow past the lake. I was half-tempted to smash the layer of ice over the water, but saw that such childishness would endanger anyone not paying attention.

There I went, walking into the forest that surrounded Haven. A few tents appeared within them, the Bull's Chargers had kept their area small and contained. Cleaned the space around their tents to avoid fires or environmental dangers. I waved to a few who spotted me, but didn't stop to talk. I wasn't in the mood. I was being selfish, angry at the world and bitter with people who had done me no wrong, _and yet_. A sigh ripped through my body and I twisted the handle of my maul. My walk brought me toward a clearing that was smothered in snow and popping elfroot. Rams dashed away at the crunch of my boots.

I found a fallen tree covered in snow, the bark curling and cracking, some parts stripped bare from the rams or the deer that chewed on it for nutrients. My stance squared and I bent my knees, with a roll of my shoulders, I brought the maul around one side and then over my head, slamming it down on the trunk of the tree. The wood splintered under the maul's head and I blinked in surprised. I cleaved through it further than I thought I was capable, but months of training must have made me stronger than I realized.

I had walked the whole way with the maul on my shoulder like it was nothing.

A laugh echoed up from my stomach at the realization and I readied another blow. I don't know how long I was out there, smacking away at the trunk of the tree. It was firewood by the time I finished and I was sweating from head to toe, shivering in the mountain air. It was invigorating and the exertion allowed for a lot of my pent up frustrations to fly from my shoulders and through my arms into the maul. I could see why Cassandra did this on a regular basis. My chest was heaving and my knees were knocking together as I took a seat on the stump, my hands folded on the pommel of the maul and I rested my head in the crook of my elbows.

"Feel better?" Bull's voice traveled up to me from the shelter of the trees. There was an bubble of sourness that swirled in my gut at having been found and perhaps spied on by the last person I wanted to see, but the knowledge that I _had_ gotten stronger, that I _had_ learned something from my training, that I wasn't just a weak twig about to snap had done wonders for my psyche. I felt like I could fly despite the exhaustion in my limbs. I felt like I could sing. Excitement made me shake, not my tired, worn out limbs. My head came up and I couldn't stop the grin that flashed over my face.

Perhaps he did want me dead. Perhaps I jumped to conclusions. Perhaps I allowed the uncertainty of things strangle me, however; in this moment I felt every inch the person I wanted to be. I leaned my cheek against my hand on the pommel of my maul and nodded. His head tilted and with an easy step he approached me. His good eye wandered over the trunk that I had laid waste to and chuckled. There was a beat of silence as I glanced at it again, then chuckled with him with a shake of my head.

"Dummies don't like mauls as much as they like Cassandra's sword." I coughed, breathless. I was still attempting to relax from my sudden exercise. Sweat froze on my forehead and I reached up to wipe it away with the back of my hand.

"Yeah, and you got the added bonus of firewood." He smirked at me and my heart seemed to ignore all the previous disinclination I had toward The Iron Bull. I snorted at myself, though Bull took it as an answer to his jest. He turned toward me and again his head tilted, his good eye inspecting me.

"Have a painting done," came my response when he stared too long for my comfort, "it'll last you longer."

"You got a lot of fire in you today." He murmured, amused. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really." I answered immediately and sat straight on the stump. My gaze found his face, I noted he was wearing the pants we had purchased for him in Val Royeaux. "There's a lot that I can't share with other people, and after months of just... biting my tongue. This." I gestured to the destroyed trunk and then rubbed at the back of my neck. Oddly, working myself to exhaustion was therapeutic and vastly different from the exhaustion I felt at the end of a day of traveling and worrying over my Inquisition.

 _Ha_ , I snickered quietly to myself, _**my**_ _Inquisition._

"Bottling things up isn't always healthy, Boss." Bull's tone was casual, no judgement or pressure to offer up information. Different than Solas, who worried for me and his curiosity sometimes won out over politeness. My assessment had been correct, at the very least; Bull cared not a lick what happened to me as long as I was capable of sealing the Breach and controlling the Mark. My shoulders slumped, relieved at the thought.

"Get in line," I teased easily, "you and everyone else wants to know what makes me tick."

"Don't share much, huh?" There was a tint to his tone, curiosity, maybe, or concern. My feet shifted in the snow as I adjusted for a position more comfortable. The maul swayed a bit in my hand and a half circle formed as its weight made it slide a bit to one side.

"I try not to." I answered honestly. He would most likely know when I lied about something that simple. My past was easier to hide from him, obscured by the bits and pieces Leliana and Josephine had so carefully constructed. "No point."

He blinked at me. "No point?"

"Nope." I shook my head and kicked my maul out enough so I could rest my chin over my hands on the pommel. "Doesn't get me from one point to another, just burdens other people with things they can't fix."

"No sense in burning yourself out, either." He rumbled with a studious glance over my face. "But I get ya. You've always seemed like the private type." I snorted again and hung my head down on my arm and bit my tongue. The overwhelming urge to blurt out the truth was a physical pain that echoed in my gut. Sharing _experiences_ wasn't hard, but sharing _emotions_ wasn't something I was accustomed to doing.

I shivered, my mouth working without consent. "Tell me about the Qunari."

"You writing a book?" The sarcastic response was swift.

"It's your _culture_." I fired back, eyebrows raised as my head came up to level him with a look. "And I'd like to know you better."

He hesitated, and then gestured to me with his chin. "Tit for tat. I give you a piece of my world, you let me know a little of yours."

"Deal." I said thoughtlessly. What could he ask that I couldn't fabricate, anyway? As if he read the thought before it finished fluttering through my head, he narrowed his eye at me and stepped forward, a stride's pace away from where I sat on the stump.

"The truth," he rumbled, "not whatever your spymaster has you parroting." I should fucking know better than to test fate the way I had, but my face remained impassive, as I had too many months with warring emotions and lying about the negative ones to let much more than a twitch slip past me. I wasn't as good as he was, I couldn't smile when I wanted to scream, but I could go dead inside enough to not give away anything. I was silent for a long moment, wondering on how to word it that gave him little to use.

"What about me set it off?" I asked quietly. Tension rolled through my body, whatever relaxation or peace that I had managed to obtain disappeared within the beat of a heart. His nose flared and he stayed in his position in front of me, his head tilted down and his horns lowered, a menacing sight if I had enough energy in me to care about it.

"Small things," he answered vaguely. He leaned against the nearest tree. "Don't get me wrong, the story is a good one, waterproof, almost. It's a few things here and there that seem... off."

A huff flared my nose. "But you picked up on it."

"Exactly. _I_ picked up on it." He chuckled. "Not to boast, but I was trained to find inconsistencies. I doubt anyone else would think too much about it, or if they did, they'd assume it was something from your upbringing."

"I'm curious about which parts you believe." I inhaled deeply and straightened my back out again, nervous as to where this conversation was going. It was one thing to joke about blurting it all out to Bull and watching him flounder with the information, but it was another to actually have it happen. This was a dangerous time, and with all the turbulent emotion I felt, I could he hailed a lunatic and not a Herald.

Funny how times change perspective.

"I'll tell you," He answered with a tip of his head, "but I believe you asked, first."

I grinned at him weakly, still floundering with my rolling stomach. It was immensely exhausting going through all these emotions in the span of a day, but what was I to do? It wasn't as if the world was going to stop for me, this wasn't like back home where I could call off from work when my anxiety overwhelmed me, or skip out on visits because people ruffled my feathers.

"So," he cleared his throat, shifting against the tree and his arms came up to cross over his chest. "What do you want to know?"

* * *

 **Note:** _Don't kill me, please._


	17. ACT I: Down With The Sickness

**Running on Empty:** _Down With The Sickness_

* * *

"So growing up, you're in groups, with... _Tamassrans_?" I asked, trying to keep up with the information. It had already been close to an hour with us sitting out in the snow filled forest of Haven. Bull and I had moved on from the demolished tree and found a spot with small rocks and boulders under the afternoon sun. He sat next to me as a windbreaker, his head half more than mine above my skull, his horns wide. Even when he sat straight to keep from clipping me at the ear with them, I hunched instinctively at the passing shadows they made.

It was a work in progress, getting comfortable next to each other.

"Yeah, they're like... teachers, or Chantry Sisters." He gestured with an open hand toward me. "Like with orphans, one big group of kids being herded around, taught the basics and told not to beat up on one another." He laughed and shook his head, his horns swaying again and once more, like a turtle, I ducked.

He shot me an amused look, " _But_ , the difference between that and us, we're trained and vetted to be specific people. Laborers, craftsmen, spies, healers, that kind of thing." I desperately wished I had my leather journal with me. I had at least two already filled to the brim with what I had learned from Solas concerning the Fade and this conversation was turning much into that lecture.

"Yeah, no." I sighed, knowing enough of orphanages back home. "They don't necessarily do that with us. We have schooling and learn basics like, reading and writing, _maybe_ ," I tacked on hastily, realizing that I myself still couldn't read much of their written language, "but the other things like jobs and careers, we don't get to those until we become adults." He peered at me, and I knew I was fumbling with information. I wasn't a spy by any means of the imagination and Bull had already noted that I wasn't who everyone said I was.

Goddamn, I needed a Midol and a nap.

He tilted his head, "I've seen that in my time around. Orlais is a bit better at hiding their homeless and destitute than Ferelden, but they still exist." His nose flared with an exhale. "For us, they match us for our paths pretty quick. I was pegged for military work early on."

"But you're a spy." I wheedled. Another look was shot my way and I wondered how many strikes out I had before he tilted his head just enough to catch the back of mine with a horn. One would think I would know better than to test it, but I was on a reckless streak already, I might as well jump the cliff while I was at it.

I nearly snorted when I realized I missed an opportunity for a "grab the bull by the horns" comment, but my luck was thin.

"I _am_ ," he groused, brow ticked with amusement, "when they learned I could hit stuff _and_ lie, they started training me for the _Ben-Hassrath._ "

"Must have been a good day for you." I teased. A smirk flirted over his face and hastily my gaze hit the ground. Didn't need that on my mind just yet. The giggling Chantry Sisters fluttered through my mind and near immediately my cheeks were set on fire, the blaze reaching my ears.

 _Fuck, I'm an embarrassment. I've seen late night porn, why is_ _ **this**_ _more embarrassing?_

"Yeah. It's like being a block of stone with a sculptor working on you." He murmured with a reach up to scratch his ear absently, more than likely ignoring my cherry colored face. "One day, the last of the crap gets knocked off and you can see your real shape, what you're supposed to be. _That's_ a good day." It wasn't like I couldn't sympathize, it was definitely a good feeling when you slipped into who you were meant to be, but...

I was still attempting to find the shoes that fit me and walk in them. My eyes glanced at my maul beside me, a warmth in my chest at the knowledge that I could lift it without issues, could swing and be a contender with it. Nevertheless, I couldn't _lead_ yet. Not like they wanted me to, not like Bull was trained to do, not like Cullen had the experience to do. Effectively, the blind leading the gifted. It was the small steps that were my best ones. I was stronger, at least physically. The rest would come.

"So if you're all raised in groups," I noticed he had gone silent as he watched me, my embarrassment growing, "would something like arranged marriages happen often?"

He snorted hard. "No. Qunari don't do marriage."

"Eh?" I looked at him askance, confusion pinching my face. "What do you mean? Then - I guess... I guess that's what Lieutenant Aclassi meant about a bastard knowing who his mother was?"

"You know." His clear green eye swiveled down to me, curious. "You remember the strangest things. You can't remember or recall names, but you can remember conversations like they were yesterday." It was a statement laced up like a question. It was probably a portion of me that he had learned during our travels. There was no realization that I did it, because conversations were easy. They had context clues and actions associated with the words. A name, was a name, was a name. With all the hundreds of faces I saw each day, traveling or no, it was hard to keep them all straight.

I shrugged, and then narrowed an eye at him. "Marriage."

"Alright," he laughed, "like I said, the Qunari don't have marriages. We love our friends like anyone else does, but we don't have sex with them."

"Qunari don't have sex?" I deadpanned. _Bullshit_ , I had heard those Chantry Sisters and though I wasn't usually one to allow rumors to perpetuate around me, that particular one stuck hard like tar to the ribs. I may have had a crush on the Qunari, but that didn't mean I was above ignoring certain truths.

"Oh, we _definitely_ have sex." He chuckled and shifted in his seat. "There are _Tamassrans_ who pop your cork whenever you need it."

I couldn't stop the laugh. " _Seriously?_ "

"Yeah." He sounded a bit confused, and then huffed. "It's not a big deal like it is here. It's like... I dunno. Going to see a healer or something." Which, when taken into consideration the other things we had talked about, society and roles, a _Tamassran_ wasn't necessarily like a prostitute. She was a den mother, a midwife, a medic, and a spiritual guide all in one. She had many roles to fill and with the added chaos of children, god bless the _Tamassrans._

His head shook, neck popping. "Sometimes it's this long involved thing. It takes all day, leaves you walking funny... other times you're in and out in five minutes." He clicked his tongue for two beats, gesturing over his shoulder like he tossed something, his voice changing, " _Thank you, see you next week._ " If it hadn't been something concerning his culture, I would have been in stitches. As it was, there was a mighty attempt on my part to keep my snickering to a minimum.

It did paint a strange situation, but it made sense for the Qunari. What little I knew of their culture, either from Leliana's teachings or what Josephine had to spare (even Cassandra on occasion had a word or two about the Qunari), it painted them almost like a hive. Not a hive _mind_ , precisely, but a hive of busy bees that kept things running. Politeness or niceties weren't necessary when there was so much needing to be accomplished in the span of a lifetime. A question struck me, the voices of the Chantry Sisters echoing between my ears.

"So... you've never really made love?" And what an awkward thing to say. At twenty-six years old, I was no stranger to the intimacies of sex with flings, friends or acquaintances, but it never felt so detached for me. Even being single, there was a connection (at least for me) before I dove into bed with anyone. His good eye narrowed on me, and hastily added, "Y'know, connected with someone in both body _and_ soul?"

"I don't know." He snorted with a half-hearted shrug. "One time they used this thing called _saartoh nehrappan._ It's a leather-wrapped rod on a harness... that wasn't really my soul, though." That kind of item sounded strangely familiar and it made me smile, it seemed our worlds weren't quite as different as I would think. There was still a chuckle that escaped me and another snort flared his nose.

"Also," he added cheekily, "there was more than two people."

It was my turn to snort.

"You're trying to shock me, but it ain't gonna work." I answered his smirk with a raised brow. His eye patch twitched and I laughed. "I've seen my fair share of strange things. Our lot aren't so discreet as we'd like to think we are." He chuckled with a nod and a silence blanketed us. Gently my heels kicked against the boulder I sat on and waited. I knew it was my turn to share, but my nerves were fraying rapidly under my skin.

"So." He started after a good handful of minutes. "How about we start at the beginning, hm?" Hesitation struck me. Leliana had warned me against sharing my true story with anyone, for good reason. Undermining the legitimacy of the Inquisition when it was already on a shaky foundation with my honest truth would destroy us. I glanced up at Bull and he stared ahead of us, gaze flickering over the snow. At this moment, there wasn't enough trust between us for it.

The memory of the Mark pulsing with his certainty, with his purpose in killing me if I posed a threat, was still too fresh. Weird attraction aside, he could very well stab me in the back if I brought hell down on our heads. Honestly, I could respect that, but it also meant I couldn't share with him the truth. A swallow forced its way down my throat and a heavy sigh came up, my hands running over my head and down the back of my neck.

"The only honest thing I can tell you is that I _can't_ give you details." I started. His eye darkened and swiveled back to me. My gaze found his, knowing that I couldn't look away now, not if I wanted him to trust me in this. "Because it would be dangerous. I can tell you small things, but... knowing you, you might piece it all together anyway."

"And if I come to the wrong conclusion?" He murmured heavily, his shoulders relaxed but his throat was stiff. Things I could only notice with being right up close to him, sitting nearly hip to hip.

"Who would believe you?" I answered softly, sincere. "It's the same reason I don't share, because... who would?"

"Point." He nodded his head gently. "What _can_ you tell me? Because right now, if we're baring the best of us, you're sounding more and more like an infiltrator." A laugh came up at that, surprised and choked. The idea of _me_ , dorky, terrified, two-left-feet Jaime being an _infiltrator_ when I could barely be myself struck deep at bundle of hysteria.

"You're here, the honest truth." I held my hand palm up to him and then leaned down and picked up a rock, chucking it as far as I could in front of us. "And _that_ actually being true is wherever the fuck that fell." He rolled his good eye and huffed. He reached out and smacked my palm down lightly, making me laugh again. What an odd sense of friendship, being simultaneously terrified and flustered by this creature beside me.

"Then give me some idea." He prodded, shifting to lean his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and making his back stretch. Promptly I flicked my gaze away and stared at the forest around us. I'm sure he knew with _absolute_ certainty what he was doing or what he looked like. I was a book with no covers and easy to read, but I wasn't going to reinforce any of those rumors of attraction or shit. _Fuuuuuck that_.

I cleared my throat. "My name is Jaime Wyatt." He didn't blink, or move, or react. He stared at the side of my face and with a sigh, I continued. "I _am_ twenty-six years old, but I was not raised in an orphanage. I had parents, an older brother, and a young one."

"You weren't born in Ferelden." He interjected. He sat up straight again and ran a hand down his chin with his brow furrowed thoughtfully. "I knew your accent was strange, but even with traveling, you can still pinpoint where someone stayed the most by certain words. Yours, and some of the phrases you say..."

"I can't tell you where I came from, that's classified." I shrugged.

"See, like that." He chuckled, arms crossed over his broad chest. "Granted, orphans _could_ be potentially well-read, but Ferelden and Orlais don't put too much in the way of educating their less fortunate."

"What?" I laughed with a bemused twitch of my mouth and brow at him. "All because I said 'classified'?"

"That, and things like 'my guy' or that other word," he snapped his fingers, attempting to recall whatever I had said. "Ah, right. _Dude._ Don't know what that is, but you use it a lot." My lungs pulled a deep breath and held it, my fingers came up to scratch at the spot between my eyebrows as my eyes closed. _Fuck, I'm not as sneaky as I think I am. That's something anyone can notice._ Unlike Bull, though, I'm sure most of my other companions or the Inquisition weren't going to question the weird words of an unknown, uneducated orphan.

 _Fuck, they probably think I'm stupid as shit and just don't correct me when they think I use a word that doesn't exist for them._

That was humbling.

"Why can't you read? If you had a family, you don't act like a low-born. Are you?" He asked pointedly. My shoulders went stiff and my back wiggled in place, shifting me on the boulder. My mind pondered the question, because that was one I didn't understand myself. When I heard them, listened to them, I understood them. Granted, their accents were strange, varied like back in my world, but there was a hint of something to it, faint and extremely minuscule that it bothered me not at all. We could communicate, but it was as if listening to a second language that I was competent in, but not comprehensively fluent.

"I can." My reply broke the silence that settled between us. I was glad he didn't push and allowed me to think. "In a way. Certain words or lettering, or rather... a collection of letters, when they're patterned a certain way, I can understand them. Varric isn't wrong, smaller words are easier because I can memorize the pattern for them faster." Bull watched me with a keener interest than before and I wondered if I had given too much away. It was just language, right? What could he know of me from that?

"Reading is much the same." He murmured curiously. "Just memorization and repetition."

I shook my head, hands clasped in my lap. "No, see like... fuck, how do I explain this?" I shifted down and pulled out my little knife from my belt. In the snow I jotted down a few words that I knew the meaning of and matched them with the English ones. The letters weren't precisely the same in structure or symbol, but there was a faint similarity. I wrote out 'dog' in English and the same one I knew meant 'dog' in the common tongue of Thedas.

" _Dog_ ," I pointed to the English one, forcing my word to sound as close to English as I could. "And _dog_ , but you know this one, right?" He wasn't paying attention to me anymore. Deep in my soul, something started to shake. What was I doing? This was crazy, even with this he could see me as insane, making up a language, or maybe the Fade had done something to my brain? Christ, the more and more I thought about it, the more and more I regretted opening my mouth.

"Please," I suddenly begged, fear laced my shaky exhale. "I kn-know it doesn't mean much, but I s-swear I'm not insane." Which, once more upon _further_ thought, was just as good as confirming that I was. _Fuck, bitch, shit this is bad. He's never gonna trust me again after this, there's no way I could explain this to someone who didn't see me from the start, and I can't tell him everything. Omitting parts was a_ ** _bad_** _fucking idea._ My brain flopped like a mushy pancake between my ears and I shuddered.

"... you don't read the language." His eye studied me, something dark and deep rested behind his searching gaze. "But you can speak it."

"I think..." I swallowed, fire bloomed in my stomach and fear brought tears up to my eyes. I was in the woods with a man who could snap me over his knee. "I think I'm cheating, with the speech. L-like a parrot, if you have those here. A bird couldn't read the language, but meaning and understanding can still be obtained through auditory instruction."

"Boss." He sighed, and then rubbed the back of his head with his gaze ducked down. "This is..."

"I know." I choked, my arms shook against my sides as I hugged them around my chest and tentatively sat next to him again. "It sounds crazy, but considering that we have a hell-mouth over our heads, demons busting out the ass, and the whole world falling apart... I would like to think my case isn't so far-fetched."

"The implications of this," he growled lowly, "for the Qunari? For the Inquisition? Some person, some assumed human that falls out of the Fade with a Mark on their hand, can't read or write, no background to verify, but can speak, can command the rifts, feel demons, destroy them with a touch." He brought his eye up to me and pinned me with it, no longer the mercenary commander or even the meat-muscle sent to defend, he was every inch the Qunari spy, the man sent to rectify problems.

And I was looking like one _hell_ of a problem.

"I am human," my voice squeaked, meek and trembling, "I'm not a demon, the only connection I have to the Fade is this." I raised my hand for him and the Mark was dim and gentle in my palm, as always one pulsing beat behind the rhythm of my heart. My teeth clenched, the muscles of my jaw jumped.

"B-but... I see your point. There's no way I can make you believe me." I swallowed again. He stood and instinctively I flinched briefly, my shoulders curled and my hands tight against my sides. There was a pause and I looked over at him. Slowly, his body relaxed and faintly, with a terror deep in my heart, I wondered if he had resisted the urge to strike me down.

 _I haven't thrown up in months,_ but right now was sounding pretty good.

"... I can believe you." He answered gently. Startled, my gaze shot up to his face and it was strained, but calm. His jaw shifted as he swallowed and sighed, shaking his head. "Seekers... we know enough about them. They're trained, extensively, to help root out possession and demon-infestation. Corruption. They're called _Seekers_ for a reason. If you managed to get past Cassandra and Red's vetting, then... I can believe you."

Relief did not flood me as I expected. My heart stuttered behind my ribs and the tears had collected at the corners of my eyes, cold and threatening. He towered over me and my mind heaved a choked reminder that my maul was a good two or three meters from me. A hand came up to my face and shook before it covered my eyes.

"Thank you." The words were hollow and held no promise in them. The heel of my palm swept across my eyes and I patted both my cheeks. He remained in his place and I stood with a nervous twitch in my knees. Without directly bolting for it like a crazed-woman, I stepped over and retrieved my maul. I stared at it, hesitation pushed behind my lungs and made me short of breath.

"I'm sending the Chargers back to the Hinterlands with Cassandra." To make no mention of him, because the bridge we stood on right now that arched between us felt shabby. "They're getting our horses and I'm heading out to the Fallow Mire." He shifted behind me and his footsteps were heavy, the snow crunched under his boots. He was beside me in moments.

"I take it I'm not coming now?" His tone was carefully neutral as he stared down at me.

"I'm not petty and I'm not stupid." I lightly answered and looked up, my expression pinched over my mouth and cheeks. "But I'm not forcing anyone to come with me for this one. The Fallow Mire is diseased, a plague most like. I'm there on a vendetta."

"A vendetta?" He rumbled and took another step to be more in my line of sight. "I thought we didn't do revenge. No time, I recall."

"I do now." My voice cracked and I snapped my molars together, a flicker of rage curling under my stomach. _I should have made time_. "I left men to die on the Storm Coast. The bandits couldn't leave well enough alone, and now some Avvar asshole wants a name for himself, challenging me to a fight and taking my men hostage."

"And you're going answer him?" His head tilted, his brow raised. "Doing so could allow for others to do the same, take soldiers hostage in order to get the Herald's attention."

"Then they'll have it." I growled. I knew what he said had a nugget of possibility in it and in the grand scheme of strategy this was unsound, but I was incapable of letting it go. I didn't care if I didn't know their faces, their names, or their families. They were _my_ men, _my_ soldiers, men and women who trusted me to lead them and to help them survive this chaos.

"If I can't keep my men safe, _reward_ their trust in me, then _what_ the _fuck am I doing leading?_ " The last of it came out in a quiet snarl that hissed through my teeth. Bull raised an eyebrow in response and the twine of anxiety within my spine snapped. " _I_ ask them to step out into the line of fire, to patrol these places, and when shit goes down I'm not going to wash my hands of it and tell them shit sucks!"

"But if you put the life and needs of some soldiers over the security of the Inquisition, you're not really helping anyone." Bull countered. Bile boiled in my stomach, because _fuck him_ he was right and I knew it. I shouldn't waste my time wandering all the way out to the Fallow Mire for a handful of men taken hostage, not into some diseased place that could kill me or my companions. Even so.

 _Even so._

"This Inquisition is built on _faith_." I hammered on, determined to at least reassure myself that I wasn't making a mistake. " _Faith_ that what we're doing isn't pointless, meaningless, that my men _could_ go home and get fat." I rallied my wits and took a tremendous inhale, my shoulders shook as I pinned him with a heated gaze.

"Ignoring the hostage situation, ignoring my murdered people at the Storm Coast, ignoring anything that put the Inquisition in danger _could_ save us, and we'd make it to the finish line." My exhale shot through my nose and burned on the way out, the ice of the air rushing to slither into my lungs. "But when we cross that finish line, we won't be an Inquisition of the people, we'll be just another powerhouse that ignores the needs of its followers."

He seemed at ease with my small outburst. I hadn't been as loud as I wanted to be, we were still in a mountain range and things could echo. Bad enough that the Chargers who camped not far from us could have already gotten an earful of the argument. Bull's good eye roamed over my face and my cheeks felt like sundried tomatoes, but I didn't give a damn.

"I'm going." I answered his stare. "If you want to come, pack your shit up and be at the stables by morning."

With that, I walked my sorry ass back to the settlement.

\- 0 -

I spent the rest of my day wandering around Haven and pointedly ignoring any Chantry Sisters or Qunari. Bull made no effort to seek me out, as I knew he wouldn't, it wasn't his style (and for that, I was grateful). I had managed to snag Solas as he returned from the Breach, exhausted and eyes sunken. Any idea of asking him to come with me to the Fallow Mire dried up in my throat. It took me a good solid fucking hour to get the egghead to agree to a few days off, but there was no protest in him when he slumped his way toward his cabin and shut the door behind him.

Varric was another option, but after some discussion around his fire and hearing the uproar between the lyrium traders and the Chantry, he had his hands full. I would leave him to his duties, then, as he and Josephine were nearly finished striking up a deal to increase our supply. We hadn't sided with the mages or Templars just yet, but we did have quite a handful in our ranks already, and they were going mad at the seams with withdrawals.

So two marked off the list.

Sera flat out refused when I told her of the bog and its disease. Not that I blamed her, her goal was to end the war and set things straight. She knew of the missing patrol and was more than ready to stick it to the Avvar, but something about the corpses disturbed her deeply. Upon inspection, I wondered if she was more religious than she let on, because she sang along with some of the hymns that the Chantry Sisters would sing in the early mornings, and was mindful enough not to curse _too_ much around Mother Giselle. A conundrum for another time, perhaps.

Cassandra was already set up to head out with the Chargers the next morning.

 _Fuck_.

That left me Warden Blackwall, who's intensity had lessened considerably throughout the day but still made me worry, Lady Vivienne, who had given little indication of interest in the happenings of the Inquisition aside from acquiring as many books as possible, and... The Iron Bull.

 _Fuckity fuck._

Blackwall, when I approached him and explained the situation to him, had agreed in the span of a heartbeat. It seemed he and I were of an accord that men should not be abandoned, even for convenience. It was reassuring, but once more there was something to his look, behind his eyes and in his words that made me think perhaps there was more to the issue than what I could see. When and _if_ Bull and I were on better terms, I would have to ask him about it. Maybe I was paranoid, as my father used to say; a criminal justifies themselves because they think everyone is a criminal, too.

I seriously needed that fucking Midol and a nap.

Lady Vivienne, after a few awkward moments of silence and a long stare she gave me when I finished explaining all that the trip would entail, agreed. Colored me surprised for sure and I held back the reflexive _ehhh?_ that nearly escaped me. I left her with a bow of my head as she dismissed me, preparing to pack for the travel. This would be interesting, because Vivienne seemed like a toss up of a woman. Elegant and smooth and wicked, wrapped up in elaborate finery and silk, but with an edge to her that I was a bit too nervous to test for sharpness. I suppose now was going to be the time to figure it out.

I didn't bother checking in with Bull, eating my own words about not being _petty_ but goddamn it I had been recovering for the morning and then he walked in to muck it all up. If I was honest (and I was trying not to be, because it makes it hard to stay mad), I had been unfair to the man. I could see his point clearly; had anyone dropped into my world claiming to be something else, with no rhyme or reason, and a portal to hell strapped to their hand... yeah, okay, so I could absolutely see his point, but for now I was happy just to be puffy about it.

Sue me.

The next morning had the Chargers and Cassandra sent off. I stood by the gate with my gear and watched as the horde of people marched out again for the Hinterlands. Cassandra spared me a moment and held her hand to me, which I took in a tight grip, and we were frozen for a moment in time. Forcibly, a smile was brought to my face to reassure her. It disturbed me that the more I grew into my position as Herald, the less that she stayed at my side. I knew I should have taken it as a good thing, because with Cassandra freed of tutoring me, she was able to do other things to further the reach of the Inquisition.

It didn't make me miss her or her presence any less.

"Do try to stay safe," she murmured as she let go of my hand, "I would hate to find out something happened and I was not there."

"I will be, Cassandra." The smile was truer now. "You've trained me well." Instinctively, I leaned forward and slung my arms around her neck, her armor clinking with mine. My heart fluttered in my chest as the woman returned my hug with no hesitation. People could say what they wanted about Cassandra, her scars and hardened attitude, but she was a sweet and unrelentingly caring woman. She had my heart and soul in her hands and for that alone, I would give it my best. I waited at the gate, watching them go and only looked away as more shadows approached me.

Leliana and Cullen walked from the gate to where I stood by the stables, Avonal stood ready with his saddle and reins slung over his neck, ears flicking over his head with impatience. I smiled at the Hydra heads and pursed my lips over my teeth, a wrecking ball of my nerves ricocheting through my ribs. Behind them Lady Vivienne and Bull came along, both outfitted for the arduous journey to the diseased land of the Mire, but whereas Bull wore a heavy padded pair of pants and shoulder braces on both sides, Lady Vivienne was adorned in fine, sturdy, glittering armor and dark brown cloth that fitted to her form.

An odd choice of clothing, but I wasn't going to judge. Blackwall was already in the stables readying the spare horses we had for the other two.

"Herald," the Commander greeted softly, "I see you're already prepared. Never waste a moment, do you?"

"Only when I'm sleeping." I jested. It brought a small, amused smirk to his lips.

Leliana slipped in on my other side, her eyes on Avonal. "We received another report from Scout Harding. It seems... they have more than just the Avvar to deal with, Herald."

"Eh?" My hand paused on Avonal's nose and he nipped at my fingers. "What do you mean?"

"The corpses are moving." Cullen muttered on my other side. "As in, reanimated."

"Oh." I said hollowly. "That's..." _Sickening_. It was one thing to watch movies or read books about zombies and reanimated corpses, with moaning, empty shells and broken limbs. It was a completely other thing to have it in _real life_ and shambling toward you in the thick of a fog. A shiver shot down my spine and it popped a bubble of bile that pushed up against the bottom of my tongue. I gagged it back and the blood rushed from my face. I had a week and some days to get used to the idea. _Oooh boy._

Leliana nodded. "Yes. I've sent word ahead to expect your arrival, as well as to hold back until we know what is happening."

"Thank you, Leliana." I tugged on Avonal's reins and drew him out of the stable and toward the path that led out of Haven. Blackwall returned from further within with the other horses following, passing the reins to Bull and Lady Vivienne when he was able. We saddled up and I shared one more look with Leliana and Cullen, my teeth tight behind my cheeks as I smiled at them.

"Take care, Herald." Cullen saluted me with his arm across his chest. Leliana bowed her head to me and with a wave, we were off. Lady Vivienne took up my right hand side and kept her horse at a careful trot just a pace behind Avonal. Blackwall took my left side and Bull at the rear. An imaginary hole being burned in the back of my head. We took no other soldiers with us as speed and time were critical necessities. We took no leisure pace, our horses trotted at a hard stride for the better part of the day and the rest of the week.

I was surprised that Lady Vivienne made no complaint toward the camping or sleeping arrangements. Only bedrolls and cold dinners, washing our horses down and feeding them treats in reward for their steady and unrelenting pace. When we arrived at the Fallow Mire, the sky had darkened as it had been when we arrived at the Storm Coast. Thunderous clouds rolled over our heads and rain dripped with heavy drops that seared down the skin at the touch.

Harding was at a camp near the beginning of the marsh land. Her mouth was pressed tight over her teeth and her eyes hollow and hard. There was only a handful of soldiers around her and she greeted me with a swift salute, shoulders stiff and nose flared. The rest of the soldiers looked worn out and battered, their eyes sunken into their sockets. My heart ached for my men, having been stuck in this marsh and then losing their people. I returned Harding's salute.

"Thank you for coming." Harding started, voice rough. "Maybe you can solve this mess." She was putting a lot of faith in me, but my rage would carry me. I had the travel to try and simmer down, but it did nothing to help. I was being a child, running into a fight against a bully who had picked on my friends.

"Tell me." I murmured. My armor itched, either because of the rain or my annoyance with the Avvar. My three companions around me shifting as they waited for our battle plan.

Harding snorted. "As you've heard, our missing patrols are being held hostage by the Avvar. Barbarians from the mountains."

"What are they doing in a _bog_?" I questioned, my face frowned. Lightning struck somewhere near in the bog, sparks flew through the air and the water glittered with the released energy. We would have to be careful as we walked through, and made a fleetingly mental note to inquire about rubber and if it existed anywhere in this world. It would help with the bog and mages with electrical affinities.

"That's the thing, their leader... he wants to fight you. Because you're the Herald of Andraste." Scout Harding groused. Her arms were tight behind her back and it seemed she mirrored the same anger I felt. I glanced out over her head, I could see nothing beyond the fog that surrounded the camp, the lightning strikes didn't do much to help.

"I've survived demons and Chantry Mothers," I joked to relieve her of some stress with a look back to her, "I think I can handle some southern barbarians." There was an amused sniff behind me from Lady Vivienne and Blackwall's low belly chuckle reassured me a bit. Bull, perhaps unnaturally so, was quiet. _Don't make it a mistake that I brought you, Bull._ From Lieutenant Aclassi's stories, I was gambling on the fact that Bull's professionalism would win out.

"Yeah, you'd think." Harding snorted again. "But they're a brawny bunch. Getting to our troops won't be easy. You'll have to fight your way through undead -" Harding stopped and I knew why, because fucking hell how the _fuck_ did I forget about the _corpses_. I wasn't even a day out from Haven to the Fallow Mire and they had slipped my mind; I was so focused on getting my men back. Blood drained from my face and stiffly, my upper lip held its place.

Harding cocked an eye at me. "Wait... you're not squeamish about undead, are you?"

"We need to get our men back." I deflected. There was a worried glance from Blackwall just beyond my shoulder, but I kept my chin raised and straight. Now was not the time to allow my fears to get the best of me, I had let them do so for far too long and people paid for it. It was high time that I was the one to cash out.

"Agreed." She took another long, peering look over my face and then sighed. "The Avvar are holed up in the castle on the other side of the Fallow Mire. Maker willing, the Inquisition's people are still alive." My nose flared with an exhale, my molars clenched around my tongue. The Avvar would not have a Grand Time of it if I walked in to find my slaughtered soldiers. I nodded to her and with the dismissal, she turned back to her men to care for them.

"What's the plan?" Blackwall immediately pounced. His brow was furrowed over heated eyes and I held up a hand and waited until Bull and Vivienne drew in closer. My eyebrow cocked in amusement as Bull gave Lady Vivienne a wide berth. _Is that because she's a mage, or Orlaisian? Or both?_

"We scout first. From what Leliana had told me beforehand, they couldn't get much lay of the land because of the Avvar or the undead rising up to pull them under the water." My eyes closed and I shook my head with a deep exhale. My hand lowered to my hip to hold, the Mark a warm pulse in my hand that I hid behind my back.

"The undead are a peculiar issue." Lady Vivienne intoned with a raised brow. "I would look into that as well, Herald. That is magic, not the Maker."

"What, like necromancy?" I asked, startled, my gaze on Vivienne. "You think there's a mage among the Avvar?"

"No." Bull finally joined in, his voice low, his gaze just over my shoulder. "Avvar avoid magic just about as much the Qunari do. Any mage that appears in their ranks is usually killed or abandoned."

"Oh, that's lovely." I huffed a short breath. "Then an outside force without a connection to the Avvar?"

"Possibly. Most likely." Blackwall ran a hand down his beard. "Perhaps an apostate testing their limits?"

"Such magic is detestable." Lady Vivienne countered sharply, brow still raised. "If anything, it may just be a demon that's fueling the chaos. In the end, our best course of action is to root it out and nullify it."

"I agree with you on that." I muttered and mimicked Blackwall, my hand running down my face. The rain still came down in spurts. "Keep close, watch the water, and don't touch _anything_ without gloves on, hear?"

"Understood." Lady Vivienne and Blackwall graced me with replies. Bull still focused his gaze just over my shoulder, but nodded in response. _Oh, man, this is going to be a long day if he's going to keep that up. Damn it, I shouldn't have said a damn thing._

"Right," I grunted, "then let's hunt these fuckers down."

 _Zombieland here I come._

* * *

 **Note:** _You've been waiting for this conversation, I've been waiting to share it. Honestly, it isn't until you get to writing down all the shit that can go wrong that you realize: nothing is going to be okay._


	18. ACT I: A Little Poison Never Hurt

**Running on Empty:** _A Little Poison Never Hurt_

* * *

We walked into the fog completely unaware of the shit-storm that awaited us. Lady Vivienne stood beside me, her staff held firmly as she walked, the orb at the top aglow with a light to break through the fog. We could see bits and it didn't seem as dense the further we went in, as decrepit cabins and walkways and overhead bridges came into reality. Humongous trees groaned above our heads and I tripped over a few mushrooms the size of my skull.

Carefully we picked our way through and I could see a tall and elegant statue of a feminine figure standing at the mouth just before the marsh. _Andraste_. I had seen paintings of her and figurines that one could cradle in the loneliest of hours, but nothing like this existed in Haven or what I knew of the Hinterlands. Nervously I wandered past her, my eyes bounced from one shadow to another, expecting an Avvar to peel out and strike me.

We came to a series of interconnecting bridges that looked about as steady as my nerves. Tentatively I took the first step on them and they creaked threateningly. I paused just at the first few boards and contemplated the path. They branched out over the water and deeper into the marsh. I didn't want to put us in danger of falling into the water, but never was I an eager beaver at the thought of wading through it.

"Don't touch the water." I gave the order over my shoulder with a glance at them behind me. Years of watching horror movies and playing the same types of video games sprung to mind. "Don't disturb anything if you can help it. If you fall, don't thrash."

Blackwall pierced me with a look. "You sound like you've had experience with undead before, m'lady."

"In a way." I answered vaguely, well aware that Bull was still within earshot. "I may not have encountered them up close, but... yeah." How to explain that the only experience I had with the undead or zombies was with hours spent on shooting them down in a virtual world. I hardly thought that my companions would understand the emotional turmoil I went through playing as Lee and Clementine from the Walking Dead.

Small, strange, greenish fires were lit in swinging lanterns that dotted the bridges. I dared not touch them for fear that they had something to do with the undead, like a ritual of some sort, and would have to ask Lady Vivienne to check them later once my missing patrol was accounted for and among us.

With no map of the place, I wandered along the right side and followed where the bridges dipped and meet solid earth. It was packed hard despite the surrounding marsh and barely gave under my boots as I squelched along over broken buckets and overturned carts. My curious gaze roamed over these forgotten things and it was strange that I could find no bodies among them.

"Might have all moved to the water." I muttered to myself, ignoring the looks my companions blinked at me. In the distance I could see a cabin bordered with large boulders and mossy rocks. Along the front I could see crates lined the front of the door. As tempted as I was to bust the door down and explore inside for evidence, I was also short a filtered respirator mask and hazard suit.

Also, movies had taught me not to go inside because zombies.

I signaled to my team, two and two, to scout around the edges of the cabin. Blackwall sided with me and Lady Vivienne led the way around the other side with Bull following close to her shadow. There was nothing behind it and we circled around toward the bridge that broke across the water. It came to an end at a hill and at the top I could spy a pillar through the fog. It was huge and circled by a packed platform, a few benches and crates were tossed around it.

"Is it just me, or does that fire look weird?" I asked my companions. I could see the fire at the top and it blinked with a bluish green tint. There was a metal mount on the side of the pillar and I shuffled closer to it, inspecting the item. It was rusted from the water and moisture of the area.

Lady Vivienne huffed. "It's Veilfire, my dear. Mages can interact with it and create it." She stepped toward me and I swung to one side to allow her space. Her hand came up and her eyes closed with concentration before a flicker appeared in the center of the holder and sprang to life despite the rain. It sputtered for a moment, and it was our only warning before the ground around us groaned and growled. The Mark in my left hand hissed and without a second thought, my hand flew up to my maul.

I snagged it just in time as the first dead body shambled its way out of the water and then a pair of long legged, screaming terrors pulled themselves from the ground as a portal of the Fade opened up beneath our feet. Quickly I bounced back and brought my maul down on the head of one of the terrors, but it slithered from my strike and morphed into its full form just a little ways from me. Blackwall stood at Lady Vivienne's back and guarded her as her lightning sparked from her fingers and diced through a few of the rotting corpses that approached.

It was alarming to see a few of them wielded swords. _Not regular zombies, then._ They smelled atrocious, but I had no time to deal with the moral ambiguity of necromancy or the fact that these bodies retained enough motorized skills to hold weaponry. I had a pair of demons to deal with that Bull managed to herd together and terrorize with a few blows from his maul. I flanked him and tried to snag a demon with my shaking left hand, hoping that the same trick I had used on the demon back in the Hinterlands' wolf lair would work here.

The demon seemed wise to my attempt and yowled at me, its maw wide and lined with rows of teeth. It screamed high in its throat and threw an arm out at me. I ducked, my heart raced under my ribs and I rolled as the clawed, twisted fingers slashed down toward me. With a terrified shout of surprise, I crashed into a zombie and it collapsed over me, spine and legs snapping from the force of my roll.

Clenching my teeth against the vomit that threatened to come up as the rotten, bloated organs spilt over my shoulder, I viciously kicked and rolled again to be back up on my feet. The maul swung around me like a baseball bat and caught two of them through the head as they wandered close. It was different watching an _already_ dead head pop from bone-thin shoulders.

If we weren't in a dire situation with demons, I would have found it comical, and then promptly felt guilty for being an insensitive ass with the dead.

The two long, green-bean demons had kept their focus on Bull. Blackwall and Lady Vivienne were doing their best to keep the corpses from encroaching any further. As swift as I could, I came up behind the demons and managed to dive fast enough to catch one before it dove into the ground. My stomach turned from the blow as I landed on it against the ground, the demon's leg held tightly in my grip.

I couldn't hear my companions shouting with my blood rushing through my ears, adrenaline squeezed at my heart because _holy fuck I actually caught it._

Panic flared in my throat and made me shut my eyes, but the Mark in my left palm bloomed with energy and the demon howled its displeasure as it disintegrated within my touch. Eyes open once more, I spied the second demon throw its maw open and dive into the ground. There was a brief pause of seconds before the ground opened up near Vivienne and the demon breached like a whale.

"I think not!" Lady Vivienne snapped at it. With a spin on her heel, the staff was twirled around her hips and the bulb at the top of the staff was thrust firmly into the cavity of the demon's ribcage. Her stony expression remained unchanged as electricity arched from her staff into the demon and the creature convulsed.

Hastily, I stood to my feet, but the amount of magic that Vivienne had poured into the attack seemed like enough as the demon choked on another scream and crumpled to the ground before its form dispersed into the foggy air. _Holy shit_ that had been amazing to watch. I had seen Solas take down demons before with his magic, but something about the vicious efficiency of Lady Vivienne's magic was impressive.

Once the madness had died, three pairs of eyes took a sharp turn toward me. Immediately my hand raised in surrender with a shake of my head.

"Nope, not on me this time." My voice cracked as my adrenaline waned. "There was no rift or shit nearby, they just fucking appeared."

Lady Vivienne cast her gaze to the mount on the pillar. "Mm. It may be the Veilfire that allows them to pass through."

"Or it's a trigger." Blackwall offered quietly. His sword hissed as it was sheathed. "Perhaps a trap set up by whoever is commanding the corpses?" I withheld a snarl at that idea. I wasn't religious by any means, but playing with the dead was disrespectful in all regards. When someone died, they _died_. As far as I was concerned, they were to be left alone to rest. I cleared my nose with a hard snort.

"We can use it to lure out the rest of them." I said. A glance through the fog relieved nothing, no other pillars. "If there's more, we can use it to clear a path back to the main camp for our soldiers."

Blackwall smirked and nodded. "Aye. Sounds like a plan. Lead on, Herald." I nodded and turned to continue walking, but hot damn was I trembling in my boots. I had leapt into the fray of the fight on instinct, the sound of screeching demons had set me to move instead of retreat and there was a heady sort of high to the confidence I felt.

I could bet that was probably just the adrenaline, though.

The path cut down and through the marsh, a broken and crumbling wall of layered stones on either side. The soft fog grew a bit thicker and mist hung in the air. My hair and clothes were soggy from it and no amount of pushing my hair out of my face relieved the sticky sensation that crawled over my skin.

My Mark pulsed and with a suddenness that startled my companions, I stopped. My left hand came up and in the glitter of the fog they could see it glow just the tiniest bit brighter, pulsing like my heartbeat. Lady Vivienne stepped forward and her eyes scanned the fog with me, but she spotted the wraith before I did. Without a word, her staff tapped the ground and sparks arched from the bulb and tangled the wraith.

Tentatively, I proceeded forward. There was an immense sense of relief that dropped through my stomach; though I was hesitant to rely on the Mark for anything aside from demon hunting, the fact that it could assist with finding them in this thick as fuck fog was a blessing. Mixed blessing, but still one I wouldn't question.

Another bridge was before us, this one shorter and the ground after it faded into the distance. Dubious, I gave it a glance and looked around for any other paths, but this appeared to be the only one. Mouth twisted with displeasure, I stepped onto the creaking boards and watched each step to leap away before a board snapped under my heel.

Across the bridge, another pillar of stone was jutting up from the ground and this one had a collection of dead shambling bodies already pacing around the hill's base. My companions answered my glance over my shoulder with nods and quietly as we could, we crept forward. I waved Lady Vivienne to the pillar to light the Veilfire as the rest of us took up positions to prepare for another fight.

It went much the same as the first, if not a little better. We knew what to expect this time, and so my levels of panic and anxiety were manageable. As long as I could focus on the goal of clearing the path for my soldiers and getting to them while they were still alive, then I could drive through this. The undead moaned as they were cut down, arms and hands grasping at our ankles as they fell, and the demons were a thorn in the side, but we were capable.

Lady Vivienne was a devastating force to behold. She withheld nothing when battling the demons and showed no hesitation as she systematically slew one undead after another. I kept near Blackwall and with our backs together, dealt with any undead that dribbled up to us from the water. Cleared of the annoyances, Bull and I once more herded the demons close enough so that I could touch them.

This second time around there was a tremble of exhaustion that came up from my arm. A lameness, a numbness that came up from my fingers to my shoulder, as if the muscles had already been used to their fullest extent. It was worrisome, because did the number of times I use the Mark against a rift or demon count against a charge I had? Was my arm now similar to a magical item?

Did this mean after a certain amount of times, would I lose my arm?

Once the battle was finished and the world settled around us, I studied the palm of my hand critically. I would have to mention it to Solas again, because the exhaustion plus the numbness were side-affects to a poison to which I had no antidote. Bull's shadow came over my shoulder and my fingers clenched around the Mark and my palm before it lowered to my side.

"Yes?" I turned to glance at him and found a book in his hand. The leather was tattered and soggy. I reached out to take it, his hand hesitant before he released it to me. I flipped through the pages as we ignored each other. Most of the writing had been washed away, but some of it was legible and though I struggled, I wasn't going to let anyone beyond Bull know of my failures with literature.

I could see keywords, _taken it, followed me from the circle, saw what I've done, the demons_ , and the rest continued on and on.

"Seems you were correct, guys." I said loud enough to catch everyone's attention. The book was snapped shut in my hands and I passed it to Vivienne when she was close enough. She took it with a raised brow and scanned it. "We've got a mage playing with demons."

"Hmph." Vivienne huffed. "Well. It seems they've remained close by. We shall find them and put a stop to this."

"Are we to do that first, or after?" Blackwall prodded gently. "We have soldiers who may not have much time left."

"These are Avvar, my dear." Lady Vivienne sighed and folded the book away into her traveling sack. "It is more than likely the Inquisition soldiers are dead, either from their brutality, or this plague."

"Yeah, _well_." I half snarled at her insensitive answer. My nerves were still raw and having them flare up constantly was aggravating. "When I see their bodies, I'll believe it. For now we leave the mage, they'll have to come out and reset these pillars if they want their demons back." Vivienne took note of my response and eyed me critically before she nodded, leaving the discussion alone.

 _Yeah, I already had it with Bull, I don't need it with you, too._

We continued down the hillside and around and more of the strange, glowing lanterns appeared to light the way. I followed them cautiously and was surprised to find that they led us to a small cave which opened into a small clearing. It was surrounded by a section of high boulders and rock. With a blink, Blackwall and I took a moment to check the place over and then grinned at each other after a minute or so of inspection.

"Thinking what I'm thinking?" I chuckled.

"Aye." He nodded. "Good place for a camp. Defensible, not too close to the water, and has a clear path to the main camp."

"That's what I thought. Lady Vivienne," I asked and once I had her gaze, I tipped my head a little beseechingly, "if you wouldn't mind setting a rune or something in the rock for us to find later?"

"Of course, my dear." She walked back out to the mouth of the cave and I leaned over to watch her touch the bulb of her staff to the rock. A flare of magic lit the fog and soon enough she was returning. Satisfied that we were making progress, I hiked up my high-water boots higher and trudged on from the potential campsite.

The campsite clearing funneled toward another pathway lined with a crumbling stone fence on either side. A few trees dotted the edges of the marsh and the fog lifted slightly. With a bit more vision, I was less prone to stumbling over the rocks in the road and could see further up along the way.

"No sign of the Avvar who want to challenge me." I murmured into the faint light of the area. The place was quiet and unnaturally still. No birds or animals aside from the massive pot-belly looking pigs that wandered around. I frowned as I walked, "I don't see any sign of the Inquisition's soldiers, either."

"They're alive." Blackwall attempted to placate me from behind. "And if they aren't, we'll get ours." I shouldn't have been encouraging violence like this, but I was already on the path to destruction, I might as well see it finished. We crossed over another low bridge that was barely raised from the water and onto the next mass of land.

There was a pulse in my hand and I stopped again to look around. My companions paused with me and waited, but I couldn't spot demons or wraiths or a rift. I held up my left hand and all of us could see that the emerald shimmer of my palm had gotten brighter, pulsing insistently. With a swallow and a hard exhale, I pushed us forward, my right hand high over my head to grip the handle of my maul.

A cabin appeared and we slowed to a cautious trot. Part of the roof of the cabin was gone, either smashed in or peeled away by wind. The door was also destroyed and the windows blown out. Curious and careful, we wandered up to the cabin and found that it was something more akin to a storage house that was missing it's whole southwest side. There were tables and sacks of soggy materials but what caught my attention was Bull going stiff just beyond my peripheral vision.

There I could see the stirrings of a rift, closed and dormant, but dangerous. A rattlesnake coiled in the bushes that waited to strike. _I can't leave that there._ I nodded to Bull in thanks for having spotted it and approached. Through the fog I could see another figure standing close to it and with a tentative step, I wandered over to them.

They were _massive._ As big as Bull if not more so, bulky either because of the furs they wore from the head down or due to the muscle mass that was hidden under it. A monstrous maul sat on their shoulders and with sharp eyes they spotted me and turned. _This might be the Avvar. Or one of them. Fuck if they're all that big, I'm so boned._

"So you're the Herald of Andraste." His voice rumbled like deep, humming church bells. My back straightened immediately. He chuckled, "My kin want you dead, lowlander, but it's not my job. No fears from me."

It offered little in the way of relief, he was still _fucking huge._

My head tilted, "Why aren't you with the other Avvar?" The opening of the rift was at my back and it electrified my skin to have it there. I didn't want to tango with that until I got this Avvar in front of me squared away. The last thing I wanted was two unruly dance partners than wanted more than just to step on my toes.

Hence, I kept my hand lightly on the handle of my maul.

"Trying to figure out this hole in the world." He snorted with a shift of his feet. "Never seen anything like its like. They spit out angry spirits. Endless. What the Sky's trying to tell us, I don't know." He said that with a most definite capital S and it made me wonder if perhaps this holding of hostages was more than just a call for attention. There was no rule to say there could only be _one_ god.

"They're caused by the Breach in the sky." I offered, partly confused by his words. "It was some kind of magic gone wrong."

"I know _that_ , lowlander." He growled briefly. "I'm talking about the Lady of the Skies." _Yuuuup. More gods. Fuck, was this some sort of religious fiasco they're trying to settle?_ It would make a bit more sense now, as big as Cassandra would like to think the Inquisition was, we were still only a minor force of power. _Religion_ and _not_ prestige seemed much more likely an offender.

 _Why didn't I think to ask about that? Damn it._

"Do you not know Her? Can't you see the warnings she writes through the bird flocks in the air?" He asked with genuine concern. I had not a single doubt in my mind that one blow from his maul would splatter me to paste, but to hear the tilt of confusion in his voice painted an image of a giant teddy bear. My mouth fought an awkward smile at the thought.

"Preposterous superstition." Lady Vivienne remarked from somewhere over my shoulder. Instantaneously my eyes shut and I resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose with my hand. _Vivienne, that is not the kind of intolerance I need right the fuck now._ Honestly, I could understand differing opinions, but in the middle of hostile territory?

Must be nice having that kind of confidence to survive backlash.

"Preposterous is what you wore to a bog, Orlesian." The Avvar took it in stride. My hand did come up at that point to smother down a smile. Though I wouldn't have opened my mouth so readily (at least while I was still in the danger zone) but it was hilarious to hear from someone else's mouth. Lady Vivienne simply raised a less-than-amused eyebrow.

"Excuse me," I parlayed sweetly, "but the other Avvar kidnapped an Inquisition patrol. Are they all right?" The giant's eyes came back down to me and I played unassuming. I was too close and not fast or strong enough to win out in a battle of strength, so killing him with kindness was my next best bet.

He nodded. "A few were injured in the skirmish, but they were alive, last I saw them." A deep, rattling sigh of relief escaped me, my bones sagged heavily under my skin and over my organs. He chuckled, eyeing me with a bit of amusement. "Someone's trained them well. They killed more of us than I thought they would."

 _Just... gonna take that as a compliment._

"So then... I thought the Avvar wanted to fight me?" It was a careful prod. I was mildly fearful of reminding him of his kin's purpose with the Herald of Andraste. It seemed my companions were just as nervous, since Bull and Blackwall stiffened with hard glances between my face and the Avvar before me.

"Our chieftain's _son_ wants to fight you." He stressed the word like an insult. "I'm called in when the dead pile up. Rites to the Gods, mending for the bleeding, a dagger for the dying. That's what _I_ do." My eyes popped wider and I gazed at him with new respect. _He's a fucking shaman. Holy shit, that's awesome._ It should have made sense to me, multiple gods, the Avvar being called a tribal people, and this man's complete disinterest.

Did Bull pick up on that, I wonder?

He snorted, "I don't pick up a blade for a whelp's trophy hunt."

"Right." I answered, then tipped my head in farewell. "Thank you for the information. We won't be bothering you from here on, but um. I do need to deal with this here." I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder toward the swirling, closed gateway to hell behind me. The Avvar shaman blinked at me and then up to the closed rift.

"You can fix the holes in the air?" He asked with pure disbelief.

I grinned, feeling stupidly adventurous. "Sure can. Wanna stay and help?"

"Yes." He suffered no hesitation, his expression stern under his helmet. "If I can, I will. I was sent here to help Her." With a nod, I turned back to the rift and gestured to my companions with a flick of my right hand. Blackwall and Bull kept a wary eye on the Avvar. Perhaps I was being a bit too trusting to let him help in the fight; he might take advantage of it and kill me anyway.

 _That feels like more work for him, though._

"Ready and steady, guys." I drew a deep, echoing breath and raised my left hand as I held it in my lungs. The warmth in my palm spread and the closed rift in front of me crackled, spitting Fade fire as it was torn open and a whip of light connected us. Lightning struck hard near where we stood, drawn in by the sudden shift of energy. The air split open as I yanked on the tendril of Fade that connected me to it and spirits poured forth, screaming.

My palm lit like fire, a flare from my hand. My ears were ringing with terrified screams and my bones rattled from my shoulders down. Wraiths appeared next to me and both my hands drew up to take the handle of my maul and I smacked it down on its emerging body. The Avvar shaman next to me growled and the glint of his maul followed on my other side, catching a ghoul by surprise.

With him around, we made short work of the rift. The screams died out faster (or I was growing numb to them), but my arm still tingled with uselessness after I sealed the rift. It was starting to become alarming. _I hope there aren't more demons or rifts here, I'm not sure how much more of this I can take._ It took longer each time for the nerves in my arm to work again and with a maul as my only weapon, that wasn't a good thing.

"Hmph." The Avvar looked to me and assessed. "Perhaps there is something to this. Take care on the road, and watch the water."

I tipped my head to him again and watched him leave, my curious gaze at his back. _To think they make them that big. I hope the chieftain's son isn't much the same._

"You know, Viv, you're not bad with that staff." Bull's voice echoed behind me, the first real thing he had said since we arrived. I hadn't treated him much better, keeping my mouth shut, but that didn't stop the pulse of jealousy that fluttered up my arm and into my chest. I trudged through the mud and moved onwards, letting them trail behind me.

Lady Vivienne sniffed. "You will address me as Enchanter Vivienne, Court Mage to the Empire of Orlais, or Madame de Fer. _Not_ Viv."

"Oh." Bull stalled. "Right. Ma'am. Sorry, ma'am."

"Hmm." She started. I could practically feel the satisfaction (must've been the Mark). "Yes. _Ma'am_ works as well." He went quiet again after that and whatever jealousy I had felt slither up my soul had disappeared in a puff. He didn't deserve that, but growing accustomed to Lady Vivienne was a bit hard. She was an acquired taste, for certain.

I lead us over yet _another_ broken bridge that kept us from the water and there was a small chunk of land that popped in between one bridge and the next. An old fire-pit lay wet and cold in the center, bodies around it, as if huddled for warmth. My heart ached at the sight. _We can't let this spread. What if we catch it?_ It couldn't get to the Inquisition and my soldiers were at risk of having it.

"Give me a second, guys." I reached into my traveling bag and rummaged for my gloves. Curious as well, Lady Vivienne followed in my shadow and also drew on her gloves. As we approached, the smell hit us. I fought back a gag and raised my arm to my nose for a breath, calming my clenched throat before moving forward.

"It's so wet here." Blackwall grumbled from behind us. "Why haven't the dead rotted away?"

"That's exactly why." I answered him with an absent mind. "Lady Vivienne, if you could pass me a vial?" She did so after finding a few in her bag and carefully she handed them to me. On my belt I reached for my small knife and slowly began to carve off what I could of skin and muscle. _I'm so sorry, but if you can help us cure this, your death won't be in vain._

"What do you mean?" Blackwall asked, his tone warring between curious and disturbed.

"Decomposition of a body is slower in water or moist areas because the... bugs and parasites that normally break down human flesh and fat can't exist in cold temperatures." A momentary blip in the flow of conversation as I struggled to think of a replacement for _bacteria_. Wasn't certain if they had discovered those yet.

Lady Vivienne glanced at me with a sharp eye and I ignored it. _Right. An orphan wouldn't know that, would they? Fuck it. I'm so tired of acting like I'm fucking uneducated. Let them guess. Let them wonder._ It could backfire on me, potentially. What dark secret or lifestyle was the Herald hiding that she knew about decomposing corpses?

None, really. Just a lot of time spent on Wikipedia when boredom struck me. Don't judge.

"I suppose you do have a bit of knowledge with the undead." Blackwall replied after a few seconds too long. I snorted and didn't continue with the line of conversation. In each vial I took samples of each body and then carefully corked them back, making sure nothing of my glove touched the flesh or the edge of my knife. I stood and turned to Vivienne and she held her hand out expectantly.

"Oh." I was dumbfounded. "You don't have to - okay." She took them from my hand with a sigh and sheepishly I wanted until the vials were tucked away in her bag.

"For research, my dear. I am not against the study of nature or our world, but you are more likely to be in close combat." She answered lightly. My throat cleared with a hasty cough and I nodded, ashamed once again that I had assumed something of her. Once she had cleared them away, I remained in front of her, head ducked.

"Yes?" She asked, amused.

"Would you mind heating my blade up so I can still use it?" I asked quietly, sheepish with my shoulders hunched under my ears. "I don't want to accidentally infect anyone if I can help it."

"And fire stops the spread of the plague?" Blackwall asked as Vivienne took my blade in her gloved hand and murmured a spell. The metal slowly grew white-hot and she held it for nearly half a minute, steam coming from the blade as the fog and gentle rain hit it.

"Not stop it, necessarily." I answered carefully with an eye on him. "But... I guess it's like the Blight from ten years ago." I could recall what Leliana and told me of the Blight. The Warden Commander and (King) Alistair never explained what made a person into a Warden, but they had warned their companions against touching the blood. _Like an extremely contagious STD. No fluids._

"The Blight?" Bull murmured once I took my blade back from Vivienne. The metal might be brittle and tarnished now, but I would rather have it disinfected and be a dull thorn in someone's side than having no knife at all.

"Yeah, so from what I could understand of it, the Blight was exactly that, _a blight_." The next bridge we came upon was broken in several places. We would end up touching the water, or at least Bull would, as I doubted he was going to trouble with picking his way over the fallen posts and planks like I would.

"Be careful, we can't cross this without getting wet. Stay alert." I drew my maul and rested it on my shoulder like the Avvar shaman had done, and walked slowly through the water to make as little waves as possible. "But, anyway. The Blight was something akin to what happens to plants when they're blighted. It's a bug, a disease that just jumps from one living thing to another."

"This we know, darling." Lady Vivienne answered, perhaps to further me along in the discussion. I flushed, briefly embarrassed that I may have sounded like I was lecturing them.

"Right, so. This plague might be the same, but it spreads through water. I have a sneaking suspicion that the Blight was passed along the same way, or through blood." I continued. Gently I pushed the water-lilies away and lamented the fact that such a lovely plant now floated upon rotting corpses and disease.

"Water-born diseases are always so excruciatingly painful." Lady Vivienne remarked as she gracefully followed from behind.

"They are." I replied, saddened. "In any case, the fire _itself_ doesn't stop the spread of the plague, but heat does. Like the bugs I told you about that decompose bodies? They can't survive in extreme temperatures." It was a loose explanation of how plagues and viruses worked, as well as bacteria that lived in these waters.

"So this plague, then, it lives in the water?" Blackwall eyed the murky, blackened marsh like it would strike him.

"Probably. Now that we know, if you slip and fall, close your eyes and shut your mouth." I glanced back at my companions before making my way over the broken bridge. Gingerly I tried to walk along the edges of the planks and I was nearly toward the end before the second to last one snapped under my boot.

 _Fucking. Beautiful._

Naturally, my body pitched sideways and from my peripheral vision I spied Blackwall making a hasty leap to catch my arm, but I didn't need two of us tumbling into the water. My eyes shut and my arms tucked into my sides and the viciously artic water bit my skin as I was swallowed. Expelling water from my nose and my heels purchased ground under me, I righted myself and breached from the water.

An arrow caught me in the shoulder and I bit the inside of my lips to keep from screaming. Heeding my own advice about keeping the water out of my body, I threw myself onto land and a hand flew up to my shoulder. _Don't pull it out!_ my thoughts screamed between my ears. _You'll bleed out faster!_

Adrenaline surged through me. My companions were a ruckus as they felled the undead that rose from the water at the disturbance. Frantically I scurried up to the side of a boulder and patted my bag down for vials of potion. I could find none. Blind, mute, and shaking from pain, I whined in the back of my throat and pressed against the wound. The blood seeped through my fingers and my shaking intensified to a rattle.

"Herald!" Blackwall's voice echoed over to me. Pain shot through my arm as I raised it to let the Mark shine as a beacon of my location. Soon the thundering footsteps of my companions drew near and shadows passed over my closed eyes.

"Stop!" Lady Vivienne commanded, her voice a solid ring of authority. "Don't touch her. Do _not_ touch that arrow, Warden. Let me see to her."

"She's bleeding out." Blackwall growled. "We're all out of potions and healing herbs." Vehemently, I shook my head and held out my hand for Vivienne. Her warm, slender fingers found mine and she firmly grasped my arm and my shoulder, the clatter of her staff twittered from the ground as it rolled over rocks.

"I can see that, my dear." Lady Vivienne answered with a stiff lip. "We need to be very careful. She fell into the water. Healing is not my area of expertise."

"What?" Blackwall snarled. "Then why bring you along at all?"

"Blackwall." Bull rumbled at the same time I snapped my fingers and hopefully attracted his attention. Despite not seeing him, I could feel his gaze and I straightened my index finger at him and shook it. _We're not going to have that kind of slander now, thank you._ He went silent and Lady Vivienne took a hard exhale.

"Ma'am." Bull stepped closer. "We can pull out the arrow and cauterize the wound. It... won't stop the plague if it's already in her blood, but..."

"It will give her a chance, yes, I know." Vivienne exhaled again. _Cauterize? Christ, please... no._ My body shook under Vivienne's hands. Rationally, it made sense. If Vivienne couldn't heal me like Solas could, then to stop the spread of disease or infection, I would have to have it burnt shut. Stitches now, with no way to sterilize my skin or the equipment, was out of the question.

I spat a wad of saliva off to one side to clear my mouth. "If you're g-gonna do that, do it n-now while the shock is still going through me." Adrenaline was my only drug now. There was a beat of silence, but Vivienne must have agreed because the next moment her deft hands were divesting me of my leather shoulder pad and the straps that kept everything else in place.

My skin prickled at the exposure and a shudder ran up my body, half my chest bindings exposed with my shoulder and neck. Her hand came to my shoulder and my eyes shut tighter, my other hand gripped hers desperately and she held on without hesitation.

Cauterization, with a mage handy, is fucking nothing like it was in the movies. There was no build up, no long moments to watch a knife or poker be brought to you after sitting in a fire for who knows how long. It was instantaneous. In _seconds_ she pulled the arrow from my shoulder and before I could gasp in pain, a deep, gnawing, hissing heat flashed over, _into_ , and under my skin.

I held my voice for all of a nanosecond before I screamed.

It was over nearly a second after and I slumped over slightly from the dizzying pain. A sob choked up and angrily I gripped the edge of the leather I wore over my thigh. A few seconds passed as I breathed hard and attempted to control my shaking. My head shook out and tentatively I held my hand out.

There was a sound of a sudden tearing of cloth and it was placed into my hand. Hastily I wiped at my face and eyes, but I could still feel some slivers of blood that marked the side of my face. It would wash off in the rain. A swallow was forced down my throat and after a handful of seconds more, I stood with Vivienne's help.

"My dear?" She questioned, a glance over my face.

I gave her a shaky nod.

"Herald?" Blackwall peered over Vivienne's shoulder. I avoided his look, my shoulder howled in pain with every movement. A sunburn gone catastrophically wrong and there was nothing I could do for it. No potions, no cold towel, no aloe, fucking nothing. Bull left and retrieved my maul as Lady Vivienne helped me with my armor, ruined as it was.

"Harritt's gonna kill me," I murmured weakly and allowed Vivienne to tighten my straps, "told me if I came back with another hole, he was gonna send me out in nothing but underthings."

"I will endeavor to be certain that you look fabulous if it happens." Vivienne soothed me with her conversational tone. "Maker knows, now seeing what you wear under all that, I will have to do so anyway." Blackwall looked away from the conversation, his gaze meeting Bull's as the Qunari came up beside the court mage with my maul.

She stole a laugh from me, shaken as it was. "F-fuck you, Vivienne." My maul was back in my hands and the pain was starting to dull. I would have to be careful after this, because cauterizing the wound did not guarantee a clean getaway from infection. I hoped Harding had potions left, because I didn't want to chance waiting until I saw Solas again.

Once my weapon was upon my back, I straightened and winced. Pain screamed up and down my arm, but I would have to force it to fuel me, rather than hinder me. I still had a mission to finish and now I prayed that Avvar was as big as the shaman I had seen, because I was going to give him _hell_.

"C'mon." I croaked and trudged up toward the next pillar. "Rage is gonna be one hell of an anesthetic."


	19. ACT I: Hell Hath No Fury

**Running On Empty:** _Hell Hath No Fury_

* * *

The next pillar was much the same as the others. Tall, imposing, and it glowed with a gentle, green veilfire. Lady Vivienne cast me a worried furrow of her brow and I waved a hand at her. _Get on with it._ The demon issue was not going to solve itself. The pain in my left shoulder pulsed with my Mark as the veilfire was lit and the demons appeared from under us. A deep seeded, twisted knot of heated rage boiled in my bowels.

I was ready.

Methodically I gripped my maul in both hands, my shoulder tense and screaming much like the demons did. Pain raced through my limb and oddly it seemed to help fight off the numbness that the Mark now produced whenever used. I used it to my advantage and once Blackwall and Bull had the demons cornered, I brought them low with the palm of my hand. The undead were unmercifully scorched in the wave of fire that Lady Vivienne blanketed over them.

A handful of minutes and the fight was over.

My whole left side was twitching and stitched with pain. Each breath labored to draw fully into my lungs and it wasn't the rain that made my eyes water. My teeth clenched tight behind my cheeks and the muscles along my jaw jumped as I leaned heavily against my maul at the end of the short fight. _Six or so demons, in less than eight hours. Do I have a limit? It seems the Mark does._

 _Maybe it's just my body._

I wasn't a mage and I certainly wasn't from this world. It wasn't far from the realm of possibility that energy, both benign and hostile, could affect the body. _The plague couldn't work that fast, could it?_ No, that was improbable. Most water-borne diseases needed to incubate. I had at least a day or two, at the shortest, before I showed symptoms. _That can be a good or bad thing. Christ almighty._

"Herald?" Blackwall drew my attention and I blinked up at him. He cleared his throat. "My lady... we can turn back."

"We c-could." I croaked, my gaze flashing to Bull for a brief second. "But we won't."

"My dear, we don't even know if these men are alive." Lady Vivienne reasoned. I shook my head and swung my maul onto my back, I for all the world a vision of Atlas with a planet now resting on my shoulders. A wince escaped me, but I marked my steps in front of me with tired eyes and led them forward. My party trailed behind me like strays.

"True." I wasn't in the mood to argue with them. Not really, as I couldn't focus past the haze of pain. "But th-this is the same s-situation I had in the Storm C-coast. I had other priorities to attend to, a-and left my men to death."

"You may not be able to rescue these soldiers in your condition." Blackwall attempted to parlay, coming up to my side. I ignored him and continued to walk forward, one step, then two, then three. It was almost mindless, had it not been for an answering pulse that ricocheted from the Mark to my shoulder and back again.

"It's one _cauterized_ arrow wound." I answered with minced words. "I ask my m-men to do much more, in greater pain."

"No one is asking you to prove anything." Blackwall hissed in a low tone. He stepped in front and the movement forced me to look up. His face was streaked with mud and splatters of black muck, his eyes dark with controlled anger or frustration and his mouth twitched under the cover of his beard. I vaguely recall saying something to myself once, trying to get through the West Road to Redcliffe Farms.

This was different.

"I do the things that I do, not because I want to, but because I must." My voice was strangely level, numbness having flooded now to my lungs and stomach. My gaze held his and he flinched at my softened tone. I didn't want to argue, so I wasn't, but I wasn't going to stop, not now. "For if I do not, then no one will."

"What are you quoting?" He asked, blindsided. The answer nearly tipped off my lips; _my father._ But that was for another time, in a safer place. There was an echo, a distant howl of pain and a lingering sob that touched my thoughts. The Mark pulsed, but this time it was warm and with warning. _A rift._ My eyes closed and I reached up and placed my hand on his shoulder, the Mark flared and lit up his face in the faint mist.

"Nothing." I answered instead. "If you want to come, then follow. If not, then stay. I won't judge you for what you choose, but I have a rift to deal with, okay?" I patted his shoulder affectionately and with a tired turn of my heel, I followed the pull of my Mark. Before me a giant mouth of an archway towered and from within, I could see the faint lines of a snared rift.

"There you are." I said, almost lovingly. I had disconnected again, _that's_ where the numbness had originated. Pressing on through the pain was all I knew how to do. It might not be the safest, most effective thing in the world, but it was all I had. I wasn't going to turn tail and leave my patrol, not when I was so close. I wasn't going to let the Avvar think they could just hunt my people like game and leave them to dangle.

Bull's shadow appeared next to me through the arch and soon Vivienne's clicking boots followed my steps. When I glanced back, I could see Blackwall at the very rear, guarding our march. _You guys have no right to call me stubborn when you do shit like this._ The screams were faint and echoed, they wavered through the barrier of the Veil and my heart ached again.

 _I'm so sorry._

The agony exploded from the rift as I raised my hand and tore it open with a yank. From it the demons poured out and spires of Fade energy breached from the ground with surprising ferocity. Lady Vivienne placed a weak barrier over us, nothing like the strength of Solas' magic, but it would suffice.

The first wave of spirits, the wraiths, were dispatched easily and we were allowed a breather for a moment before I raised my hand to tear the rift open one last time to seal it properly. Nothing prepared me for the sudden burst of heat and pulling, clawed greed that gripped my lungs and yanked me forward.

My body was slammed front first into a shield as tall as I was and in one swift movement, I was smacked down off my feet and onto my back, the shield pinned me to the ground. A gasp was all I could manage and once my eyes refocused, I stared up into the hollow eyes of a new demonic power.

This creature stood like a siege tower, its helmet winged on either side and sharp, broad shoulders lined with sparking metal and a blackened, sinister blade raised above its head. Teeth gleamed at me from its mouth and the blade came down. Trapped under the shield, I struggled to push it off, but a push of unseen power rocketed through my bones from the shield, numbing my attempts.

The blade was inches from my head before the horned head of the Qunari dashed into him like a battering ram. Whatever the fuck it was howled as it bent over Bull's back, a claw scoring heavy marks down the commander's back in retaliation. Bull roared and both his arms gripped the creature around the middle before heaving it up and hammering it onto the ground as it had done to me.

I rose to my feet with an earthquake in my knees. The handle of my maul fumbled between my palms before I tried to make my way over to Bull, the adrenaline fading out all my other pains as panic set in anew. _What in tomfuckery is that fucking thing!_ It was new to my eyes, I hadn't encountered a demon of its like before. Blackwall had made it to Bull's side before I did, but only because Lady Vivienne had screamed in pain behind me.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

We were losing control of the battle, something else had appeared and I couldn't abandoned Vivienne to fight it alone. I tossed a look toward the men, but my feet turned me toward Vivienne and I made a mad dash toward her. The scream intensified and in this, I realized once I was closer, it was Vivienne's _voice_ that screamed, but not the _woman_ who stood before me.

 _What the fuck?_ I turned to the new demon and this one had its rodent like mouth and teeth open wide and hands gripped tight over its chest. The robes around it were tattered, a hood up over its wrinkled head. It flew over our heads and _again_ I could hear Vivienne's voice scream through my ears, but now a memory flashed along as well and desperation struck me deep. It was Vivienne and she sat next to a bed, holding someone's hand, smiling.

I could still feel the sadness echo in my limbs. _It's a memory? Or a taunt?_

Lady Vivienne seemed to pay it no mind, or took no notice of the vision. Her staff whirled over her head as fast as a whip and struck a line of fire down on the creature's head. It snarled and in its hand drew a ball of shattered ice and chucked it at us. We dodged and the ice ball exploded against the ground, catching half my right leg and trapping me.

"Are you fucking kidding me!" I snarled, pissed that for the second time (forgetting the fucking arrow) some half-dead, damp-ass creature had gotten the upper hand on me. Feral and desperate at being cornered, I brought my maul up and dropped it on the ice. Particles flew and I yanked the rest of my leg out, my armor starting to shred in places.

Harritt would Not Be Pleased.

The icy creature flew over Vivienne's head back toward my side, trying to escape her rain of fire and rage. I abandoned my maul and watched as the creature soared back along the edge of our field of battle. It was going to come around the other side of the statue were the rift sat atop of, spewing this fucking nonsense. My legs faltered but I forced my knees to lock and I sprinted toward the statue just as the demon disappeared behind it.

 _What the fuck am I doing?!_

With skills I did not fucking possess on a good day, fueled by sheer indignation and radiating pain, I scaled the small loomed hill of the statue, my leg raised higher to catch my heel on the stonework and with that, I launched myself into the air, my Marked hand outstretched and for the second time this day, I caught a demon around their ankle. My anger flared through the Mark and the demon reached down to unhook me, but my weight dragged it down to the ground and we crashed in a heap.

I twisted my hand and the brittle limb snapped, the skin disintegrated between my fingers and I looked up to see soulless eyes glare at me as the rest of the spirit was banished back into the Fade. My chest was on fire, my muscles were in a fit of complete protest at the sudden parkour. I stood on wobbly legs and raised my hand toward the rift.

The tendril snarled out to meet my hand, and I gripped it tight, my fingers strengthened by my rage. I yanked it back viciously and the rift whirled in on itself, the screams dying out as the last of it faded away. The rift sparked in the mist of the mire and sputtered to an end. The marsh around us fell silent and my heart rushed into my ears.

Suddenly the memory of Bull rushing the new demon slammed beneath my skull and I tittered on a heel before jogging toward him and Blackwall. My pace picked up when my gaze fell on both fallen forms, arms and legs akimbo and weapons dug into the ground. A hasty, weakened barrier dropped over me from Vivienne but she made no hastened move to keep up with me.

I skidded to a halt near my men and bent at the knees, the soggy ground the only cushion for me as my weight collapsed. Blackwall was already attempting to sit up and used his sword as a counter to draw his spine into alignment. Bull was still on his stomach, vicious, angry scored marks ran down his back. _Claw marks._

"Bull?" I placed a hand on his shoulder but didn't shake him. I waited for a moment, and when nothing came, I tried again. "C'mon, buddy."

"I'm fine." Bull growled with his face in the ground. His pointed ears twitched with a tilt of his horns. "Damn demons... I'm fine, boss. Back up." My hand snapped back and I scurried from my place as his muscles rolled and more blood pooled along the scratches. He sat up and shook out his head, his eye darkened and narrowed, his mouth hard pressed over his teeth.

"One down." I joked weakly. His eye swiveled to me but I got no other reaction. I cleared my throat and turned to Blackwall. Vivienne had arrived and with a firm hand had helped up the Warden. In turn, Blackwall offered his shaking hand to me and I clasped it to haul myself up onto my weak ankles. Silence settled over us, our labored breaths calming as the adrenaline of the fight wore off.

"The mage is probably around here." I murmured, my Mark gripped behind my fingers. "I don't want to go looking for them, not like this."

"I would have to agree." Lady Vivienne nodded. "We test our luck even now. We cannot face the Avvar like this." She wasn't wrong. We were out of potions, outnumbered, and the whole of my team was struggling to stay on their feet. Guilt weighted the depths of my stomach. I couldn't go this alone, I would die for fucking sure, but I couldn't drag them with me.

Blackwall eyed my expression and raised his chin. "Herald... I stand with you."

"What?" I blinked over at him, confused. Bull and Vivienne eyed the Warden with mixed expressions of confusion and exasperation. Bull shifted to sit upright and rolled his shoulder with a sigh. Vivienne refused to lean on her staff, but she raised her chin and looked heavenward.

"I stand with _you_." Blackwall repeated firmly, his head dipped but his gaze on me. "Wherever you go, I will go. Wherever you stand, I stand. If you still want to find your men, then I'll follow you." My throat tightened under my tongue and I gave him as good of a smile as I could muster. Warmth burst behind my lungs and with a ragged inhale, I stood up. He followed, and not long after, so did Bull. I glanced at Vivienne and her brow pinched for a brief moment.

"I will not have anyone say that I stood back to watch." Lady Vivienne murmured, her staff twirled onto the holster on her back. "Shall we, then?" I nodded and with a final glance back at the cove where the mage was most likely hiding, I led them back through the arched entrance and past the pillar. Our path went over a ladder and some more rickety boards and funneled down toward a cabin.

We startled the Avvar that stood by their fire pit. Let the record show that I opened my mouth to parley; perhaps they were much like the shaman beforehand? Maybe they wanted nothing to do with the whims of a chieftain's brat? Unfortunately, as soon as my form was spotted, the Avvar women turned on me, bows and arrows raised. Lady Vivienne struck one from its flight toward me with a bolt of lightning and Blackwall rushed forward, shield raised.

I noticed Bull was slower to move, but he stayed at my side as we came around to the second woman, her sword raised for battle. She hesitated at the sight of our mauls and turned her eyes toward Bull, the bigger, louder threat. Given the opportunity (and too tired to raise my maul again) I dove toward her with my little dagger from my belt and caught her in the stomach.

It was something else _entirely_ watching someone die in your arms, up close and personal. Her sword slipped from her hands in surprise and she growled to turn toward me, but it twisted the knife and dragged it across her belly. She snarled again, but Bull caught her around the throat and with a swiftness that startled me (with only _one_ hand) he snapped her neck right before my eyes.

Alarmed at the display, I jerked back with my knife and the body collapsed like a bag of wet noodles. Bile rose to my throat, less over the sight of death and more over the vision of a once _solid_ body just lumping together as all motor function disappeared. Shaking, I wiped the blade on my leather pant-leg and looked to the Qunari. He eyed me with a heavy gaze and I raised a hand and patted his stomach in a weak _thank you_.

The other woman's body was in ashes. I don't remember hearing another spell go off, but I did not question it. We peeked into the cabin they were camped in front of and found a few supplies. Greedily we stole their healing medicines and devoured them. They weren't as potent has the ones the Inquisition was capable of making, but it was better than feeling like twice-baked shit-pies.

The men walked ahead of us as Lady Vivienne and I applied a few herbs to my cauterized wound and bandaged it as we walked. Nervously I glanced at her, wondering if she was ignoring the vision I had seen when we fought at the alcove. She caught my gaze twice, but kept her mouth shut until my leather shoulder piece was back on and everything securely strapped (or as strapped as it could be, I was missing some belts).

"What is on your mind, my dear?" She asked gently, her pace equal with mine.

I swallowed, keeping my voice low. "Did you... see that? When we were fighting that demon that could fly?"

"It's called Despair, my dear." She informed me with a tilt of her head, a sideways glance to follow. "I saw the demon, yes, but your tone suggests there was more to be seen. What happened?" _Oh no._ Would she be the type of person to keep that shit hidden? She was a mage, could it be a sign of possession if you got visions from a demon? Fuck, how was I supposed to word this? For a long moment I struggled, my hand scratched hard at the back of my head under my braid.

"I just... got a vision, I think." To completely ignore what it _was_ because from the short amount of time that I knew her, Vivienne was not the type to display any weaknesses. "It... I dunno if it was a memory or something the demon was using to taunt us." Her eyes grew dark and hard, her gaze pierced mine and for all the world I felt like a dead fish on display.

Her hand came out to grip my arm and we stopped, the men unaware of the sudden tension between us.

"Listen to me carefully, my dear." Despite the endearment, her voice was cold. I swallowed and did my best not to fidget as sweat collected at the base of my neck and clavicle. "Demons will do all that they can to torment you and break you. You are no mage, but that does not mean possession cannot happen. Never bend, never break, and never given in. Do you understand?"

I shivered and nodded with haste. "Y-yes, ma'am."

"Good." She grew a fraction warmer and her hand rubbed my arm. "I do not know how the Mark connects you to the Fade, but it is a power we must not rely on, as we cannot control it. You who have no experience of a Harrowing, cannot allow such weaknesses, especially with a Qunari in your mists." I resisted the urge to glance over at the men. They had stopped a ways from us once they realized we weren't following anymore.

I nodded again and we continued, silent. _It doesn't answer my question if she saw the vision or not, though._ It was an answer that left much to be desired and made me painfully aware of where I stood with Lady Vivienne at the moment. I was, much like in the eyes of Bull, an unknown weapon with an unknown trigger. I could not be wholly caged (for humanitarian reasons, hopefully), but I couldn't fully be trusted, either.

My palm glowed as I stared at it, it pulsed lightly in a pace just behind that of my heart. With a sigh, we came upon another pillar and I groaned. Blackwall chuckled and readied his shield as Bull took up another corner of the clearing. I stood with my maul hooked onto my shoulder and nodded to Vivienne once we were all in place. The veilfire sprung to life and more shambling bodies crawled from the water. Two more green-bean demons sprouted from the ground and I had no patience for them.

Meaning I got extremely lucky that one burst near my feet. It was comical that I managed to catch its head as it came up, its back bowing from the sudden capture, snarling and howling, its long and gangly arms swinging to sweep my feet out. My arm nearly snapped from its socket at how violently the demon had sprouted. It didn't matter, as my sheer dumb luck allowed my fingers to dig into its _empty_ eye sockets and send a flare of energy through my arm.

My fingers tingled again with numbness as the demon disappeared from my grip. The second one down to its last leg as all three of my companions rounded on it. A weird, instinctive chuckle escaped me at the sight. I suppose I was in no need of help as the unfortunate bastard had spawned right under me. With a swing my maul was thrown onto my back and hooked into its holster, the last of the corpses dropped as dead flies to Vivienne's fire flares and Blackwall's shield bashing.

Bull was breathing hard, his nose flared and his shoulders tense. I tilted my head at him, _are you alright?_ He waved me off with his hand and shouldered his maul, his back straightening with a strain. _The demon must have taken more out of him than he let on. I'll have to have someone check those cuts. Maybe it's the plague? Would it hit him harder than me? Fuck_.

So many questions.

More and more doubt began to gnaw at my insides. _Was this the right thing? Is my vendetta gonna end up killing us?_ What could would we be to the soldiers, then? I couldn't back down now, though, as Blackwall was determined to see this through and so I drew my courage from that. If all else failed, then at least I had Blackwall to reinforce my back.

The medicinal herbs and half-cocked potions we had scavenged were helping. We trudged on from the pillar and down the muddy path. Before us, the world opened up. Towering spires of stone and crumbling forts stood before us. Giant, impossible chains swung from tattered stone fences and I was dumbstruck by the sheer magnitude of it all. _I've seen skyscrapers, but fucking_ _ **stone?**_ If we hadn't been in a hurry, I would have driven my companions mad with my curiosity and exploration.

As it was, the road was soon overrun with more corpse. They stood silent and still at the farthest end, flooding the gate that led into another fortress. My companions and I waited, watching, but none of them moved toward us.

"There's too many of them." Bull rumbled and took a shrug to heft his maul higher. "We'll have to blow through them. At the rear, boss." Before I could protest the party formation, Bull took the lead and Blackwall soon behind him. Lady Vivienne took a graceful step and was before me, leaving me at the far end of the train wreck.

A loud, harsh snort escaped the Qunari and that was our only warning before he charged. Blackwall and Vivienne flared out to his flanks, Vivienne dropped bombs of ice to allow Bull a near effortless run through frozen corpses, but more and more tumbled out from the stone and water. Blackwall cleared my path with his shield, shoving as many of them back as he could.

It was a struggle, but we had managed to get inside. Vivienne was promptly shot at the hip with an arrow from above. Her expression hardened, her eyes narrowed and with a twirl of her staff, she fired a lightning bolt at the rafters above us, nailing the assailant. Without a word, she snapped the shaft of the arrow and left the head in her hip. She was stiff, but she met the charging Avvar with a cold fury.

 _Holy shit_ , I popped around her as quick as I could. Bull and Blackwall stayed at the gate, but I realized there was no lever to lower the iron gate from its open position. _Of course there wouldn't be, Wyatt. Who in fuck's name builds the lever where the enemy can reach it?_ I dodged a small volley of arrows with a growl and rolled toward cover, crates and wooden slats that wouldn't do for long.

 _Think, think, think._ My gaze shot around the inside of the fort for any indication as to where the lever would be. I finally spotted a lit area directly above the gate and followed the path back over the makeshift ramp and stairs that the Avvar held steady against Vivienne's vicious tide of spells. My nose flared with a snort and my knees buckled as I made my dash.

"Vivienne, clear the ramp!" I shouted. Immediately a fireball came barreling toward a shield-wielding Avvar and struck him down. I spared no time on him, he was too armored up and held a mace bigger than my chest. A mad leap sent me over his body and scrambling up the stairs. The archers waited for me, but another hissing fireball collided with them and sent them crashing over the railings.

My lungs ached as my legs shot me up the ramp and over the stairs. With a skid, I crashed into the stone wall and pushed off from it to keep going. I could see the lever from where I was, the sounds of Bull and Blackwall fighting from below echoed up to me, quickening my feet. A trip later and my hand snagged the lever and with a yank, brought it down.

The gates howled from disuse as I looked over the edge. "Look out!"

Blackwall and Bull tumbled out of the way as the weight of the gate brought it down with a flourish, the crunch of corpses bounced through the fort and I winced. Exhaling, I dropped to my knees and rested my forehead against the cold, wet stone. A minute or so passed, the moaning corpses recollected on the other side of the gate, but they were a problem for later.

My companions came up to the second level and suddenly a red healing potion was shoved into my hands. Startled, I glanced up to find Bull staring down at me. Dumbly, I raised it to him, remembering the claw marks along his back. He huffed, shaking his head, his hand coming down on top of mine.

"No, I gave it to you for a reason." He almost sounded amused and pushed it back toward my chest. "You're not leaving until you drink it, c'mon."

"Where did you find this?" I uncorked it and held my breath. Shit smelled like jet-fuel on a good day. I shot it down and gagged, licking the taste off my teeth. Bull pointed off toward the roofed part of the second level. Vivienne and Blackwall sat under the cover of the ceiling from the light rain that started up, empty potion bottles in their hands.

"The Avvar had another stash nearby, but this isn't like what we found before." He pointed to a crate near Blackwall's feet and I squinted at it.

"It's the Inquisition's." I murmured once I saw the symbol emblazed on one side. "Bastards."

"Mhmm." Bull nodded and glanced at me again. "It wasn't open. Not sure if they were avoiding using it out of distrust or something. Here." He held his hand out for me and with a sigh of utter gratitude, I took it and stood awkwardly to my feet. I leaned my weight in his hand a second and he steadied me, unmoving until I had secured my balance. I released his hand and walked toward my companions.

"Lady Vivienne, how are you doing?" I asked, my eyes shooting down to her hip where old blood had stained her clothes. Blackwall's gaze flickered between us and then followed my line of sight to her hip, paling slightly as he spotted the tarnish on her person.

Vivienne raised her chin. "Whatever are you talking about, darling?"

"So I did see it." Blackwall murmured roughly. "You took a blow. My apologies, if I'd been there quicker -" Vivienne blinked, surprised by Blackwall's words and she turned to him, a laugh bubbled up from her chest and she waved a gentle hand at him.

"Oh, aren't you _precious?_ " She chuckled, inordinately pleased at the conversation.

Blackwall flailed for words. "I... I appear to have offended."

"Oh, no, dear." Lady Vivienne stood and flicked the metal head of the arrow that had struck her toward Blackwall. He caught it, eyes wide like the rest of us. She smirked. "You couldn't possibly offend me. Come, come. We have work to do." My heart jumped to my throat as her hips swayed with no pain down the ramp we had used to come up to the second level. I shared a look with the men.

"Hot damn." I laughed, and followed, spirited by the little exchange. Bull's laugh followed us and Blackwall sheepishly took up the rear.


	20. ACT I: Just A Little Unsteady

**Running On Empty:** _Just A Little Unsteady_

* * *

We left through the rear gate of the ruined fort, Lady Vivienne and myself leading our small pack. It was a short distance to another flight of stone stairs. There was a glow of a fire and I wasted no time. These Avvar were not going to play nice with us. I waved a hand and Bull rushed up the stairs like a battering ram with Blackwall close at his heels. Vivienne dropped a barrier over them as strong as she could and I brought up the left flank with a swing of my maul as one of the archers attempted to dodge away.

There was only three of them in the camp. They put up a hard fight, scrappy fuckers, but they soon fell to the sheer ferocity that was Vivienne and Bull. Blackwall, despite the potions we took, was starting to seem a bit winded. We would need to end the fight with the chieftain's son quickly before any of us lost our nerve. We left the bodies where they died and I cast one last nervous look over them before making my way up the longer stretch of stairs. Death shouldn't be an easy thing to face and I was starting to realize that perhaps my numbness was more than just my arm.

The stairs we traveled were mostly whole. The stone fort around them had been massive in its hay-day, but now it crumbled around us, parts of it eroded by rain and weather. At the landing, the archway was half destroyed and the ceiling of the fortress was completely missing. Way out to the far end of the center hall I could see the enormous figure of another Avvar, and his maul sparked as he slammed the head of it against the rocks.

"Show off." Bull growled from behind me. He shook out his horns and stepped closer to my side. "Doesn't look like he's one for formalities."

"He's a southern barbarian." Lady Vivienne sniffed. "I hardly think he knows how to use a plate, lest of all have a sense of decorum." I stepped forward with my gaze glued to the rampaging Avvar. There was another, smaller one at the base of the throne's steps, a tower shield at the ready.

"Bring him down." I murmured to my men, pointing to the tower shield. "Don't let the shield get near me. Vivienne, please take out the archers at the top."

"You do realize that leaves you with the chieftain's son, don't you?" Blackwall hissed at me, his gaze narrowed and brow furrowed angrily. I pulled my maul from its holster along my back and dropped it on my shoulder, my grip holding it in place as I walked. I spared no glance or look to my companions, because the shaman had been right, this was a _brat_ looking for a trophy.

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall." I answered Blackwall. "Keep the others off of me."

"Herald -" Blackwall tried to step up next to me, but the massive Qunari at my back blocked the passage. Rubble littered the ground around us and made maneuvering easily a bit impossible. I would have to watch my footing. The Avvar at the top of the throne steps laughed and bellowed down at us once we were within reach of his guards.

"Herald of _Andraste!_ " He spat. Another blow of his maul crashed against the rocks. "I am the Hand of Korth and your demise!" Putting the large Avvar in the perspective of _snot-nosed brat_ as Scout Harding had titled him certainly took away much of his presence. He was twice, thrice my size to be sure, but I had soldiers he had taken as toys.

My brow locked over my glare and with a nod from me, The Iron Bull rocketed forward.

The Avvar with the shield thought he was prepared for the blow and he was fucking wrong. The Qunari slammed into him with all the force of nature, his maul colliding with the shield and a snarl. The metal bent inward. With a harsh shuck, Bull kicked the shield off his maul and swung it over his shoulder and neck to bring it down again. The shield was nearly snapped in half by the second blow. The Avvar warrior behind it stumbled and attempted to right himself with his sword.

Blackwall shot past Bull up toward the chieftain's son and I growled at his insubordination, running after him. Lady Vivienne sighed roughly behind me and from the tip of her staff came lightning strikes that peppered the ground leading up the stairs, bouncing off metal studs and railings that had crumbled off the fortress' holdings. One archer was struck violently, but another one was smarter and drew his arrow up and fired it away from him into the ground, the lightning diverted. _Clever thing._

Blackwall and I arrived at the Hand of Korth about the same time. Blackwall drew his shield up and his sword swung low to catch the man's knees. My maul came high and I attempted to dislocate his shoulder. The Avvar laughed from over my head and his maul came down toward me. He ignored Blackwall, much to the Warden's dismay, and then followed me down the steps as I dodged the blow. The roll down the steps left a few sore spots for bruises later, my shoulder and back to be riddled with them.

Bull was still contending with the tower shield Avvar. The man hadn't yet abandoned the defense, but was using its bent shape to unbalance Bull and leave him open to strike with his sword. Vivienne had gotten rid of the archers from what I could see and was hastily dropping fireballs were she could to give Bull an advantage. The Hand of Korth took a few mighty steps and had another blow come down near my ankles. I was at the bottom of the stairs and on my ass. I swung my maul around and caught him in the ankle, but he buckled only slightly and was back on the same foot with a heavy stomp.

"Fuck!" I hissed as his maul came over my head and ducked. The handle of my maul hit the ground and I used it as a lever to hook onto rubble and haul my ass away from another blow. Sweat was already pouring down my neck from fear and exhaustion. My heart slammed into my throat and choked me. I couldn't see beyond Korth and desperation was starting to take hold. _Not today, motherfucker. I survived bullies in high school, you don't get to drag me back!_ I stood behind the rubble in time to find the head of the maul back in my face. Growling, I jumped off to the right and rolled _again_.

"Vivienne!" I hollered. I couldn't see her in my line of sight. "Fire mine at his feet!"

Instantly a glyph the size of a living room rug appeared under his feet. Blackwall dashed out of reach just as the mine triggered with the Avvar's movement and ignited. It was enough, because he landed back on his ass and I sailed forward over the rubble to bring my maul up over my head and down. The aim was for his knee, but Korth was just a second faster and tugged his leg away. I managed to catch his ankle and though I didn't shatter it through the armor, I still managed to mangle it.

Blackwall was behind him as the large man stood and took a heavy thrust with his sword into Korth's waist. The tip of the Warden's blade was clear through the leather that Korth wore, dripping with blood. The Avvar howled with laughter and spun on a heavy heel and backhanded my Warden. Red flared through my vision and I took a few hasty steps to be right in Korth's center of gravity. The Avvar's four-horned helmet swiveled around to see me, his eyes lit with amusement, and the pommel of his maul came down to my shoulder.

I took the blow, gritting my teeth as the pommel's rounded end dug into my cauterized wound. Pain shot through my limb and white static flooded my fingers with numbness. I fought through it, the gauzy feeling of my muscles making my movements heavy. A shout from Blackwall echoed in my ears, but I ignored it in favor of shoving my maul's head right into Korth's crotch. He was surprised that his hit had connected and doubled over my maul and half my torso. Pain fluttered over his face and he muscled through it, but it gave me precious seconds.

His face closer to me now, I reached up, my Mark flaring with a roar. Korth shut his eyes to avoid being blinded and my free hand released my maul and snagged my knife from my belt. My fingers managed to grab the bottom edge of Korth's helmet and I took a leaf right out of the movie Troy. With the hilt in an underhanded grip, I stepped forward without letting go of his helmet and unbalanced him.

My body trembled with the effort. His muscles were no illusion, but as I had told Blackwall; _the bigger they are, the harder they fall._ Visions of my soldiers exhausted in the late morning light, the Commander smirking at us for a Job Well Done, the power that had grown from within because of these men and women - my face bore no expression aside from my glare. I could only hold him at my level steadily for another second or two.

His eyes finally opened and found my hardened gaze.

"People aren't pawns." I growled into his face. The blade glinted with the moonlight as I brought it up and slammed it through the side of his neck, past his collar and pulse. He howled in my grip and the muscles in his shoulder and neck bulged with his attempt to dislodge me. I wasn't about to be bucked off a wild animal, so I immediately released his helmet and pushed him away as I stumbled back. Blackwall kneeled with a determined scowl and set the blade of his sword to catch Korth's soft skin behind his knees. The slice was quick and Korth hit the stone ground with an unnatural growl.

Blackwall's sword rose up and struck through Korth's sternum.

Bull's chest appeared at my back as I fumbled. His arm came around my waist and we turned slightly with my added weight. Vivienne was beside us and lightning gathered at the top of her staff. It struck down with a keen wail, smothering Korth's bleeding body. Blackwall pulled his shield up to protect himself, the light scattering around him. I swallowed hard, my heart hammered deep in my stomach, the only support I had was Bull's arm around my waist. I couldn't breathe. _Are my feet touching the ground?_ I glanced down. _They are not. Damnit, Bull._

A massive hand appeared between my shoulder blades and Bull held me firm between his hand and arm.

"Breathe, boss." He soothed. Reflexively, I inhaled. With a few blinks my vision cleared, the tunnel that blinded my peripherals faded and my Mark stopped sputtering under my palm against Bull's arm. I looked around and my other two companions were breathing as hard as I was; Vivienne's shoulders were shaking and Blackwall couldn't hold up his shield.

"We d-did it?" I asked, craning my neck to look back at Bull. His only eye closed for a moment, a tremor ran through his chest and arm, one I could feel through my stomach. _What did I miss?_

The Qunari sighed and slowly settled me on my feet. "More like _you_ did, boss. Scared the shit outta us, what was that?"

"What w-was what?" I asked, mightily confused. My gaze flickered over to the fallen Avvar. From what I could see next to Bull (because he had softened his hold, but not released me completely, the worrywart), Korth had a pool of blood around his neck and shoulders, his knees hyperextended since his ligaments had been cut. His leathers and furs were charred crispy and one of his horns from his headdress had snapped

"You were within strangling range." Blackwall growled weakly. "What were you _thinking?_ "

 _Oh. Oh, okay. Sense made._

"He couldn't," I answered softly. My throat cleared with a cough and I patted Bull's arm to be released. He ignored it. "Korth had one hand behind him that had lost momentum with backhanding you, and his other hand had his maul. I know the weapon well enough, he couldn't -"

"You were still _too close!_ " Blackwall snapped. My body shivered in brief surprise, my wide eyes focused on the Warden. His mustache flared under his nose and his eyes were dark as he stared me down. Bull's arm tightened around my stomach and at the moment, I was extremely glad he hadn't released me.

"But he couldn't do anything," my answer was meeker this time, "he was too big. He was stronger, yeah, but strength is only one part of the equation."

"Could we not put this in mathematical logic for just _one_ moment?" Blackwall took a step toward me and I'm ashamed to say that I attempted a backwards step to retreat, but it only put me further pressed up against Bull's chest. Why the Qunari hadn't moved yet was beyond me, but I was not about to be ungrateful for the silent support.

"You were planning to face an enemy _twice_ your size and left us to his whelps." Blackwall continued, his cheeks red over his beard and brow heavy over his eyes. "I don't know what you were planning to _do_ or if you thought you can do anything, but leaping into danger was _not_ the intelligent thing to do!"

"I wasn't in danger." I replied softly. Blackwall's face dropped like bricks and I steady my voice, my volume forced to the norm. "I had you guys. I was trusting that as long as I didn't have anyone coming behind my ass, I would be fine."

Vivienne chuckled. "That is quite the play, Herald. To place it in our hands; you would fail only if _we_ failed."

"I didn't mean it like _that_." I sputtered, wiggling a bit in Bull's hold like an indignant puppy. His arm loosened again and his hand brushed past my stomach and waist as he stood back with a sigh. Anger was starting to boil in my stomach and I leveled my gaze on the Warden. "How the _fuck_ are we gonna let me fling myself at rifts and _demons_ but we fucking hesitate at a man who ate too many Wheaties?"

"What?" Blackwall growled, confused.

I raised a hand, annoyed at him and my slip. "Nothing, forget it. Where the fuck are my people?" I rounded on the dead and soulless body of Korth with a shove past Blackwall. The Warden resisted only a moment before Bull's shadow followed me. Kneeling into the pool of blood that surrounded the Avvar, I rummaged through his leathers until I found his belt and a set of keys.

Triumphant at my find, I stood and searched for a door to match the set. It took only a couple of seconds to spot the door off to my left and I leapt toward it. My hands were trembling as I fitted the key through the slot and pushed the door open. Sour and stale air hit my face and lungs. There were gasps around the room and my eyes found a solitary woman who stood at the sound of the door.

"Herald of Andraste," she said reverently and bowed her head with her arm across her chest. There were a good ten or eleven soldiers in the room altogether. Some were in a corner, I could see supplies and medical aid strewn about the windowless room. _No dead bodies._ That didn't mean we hadn't lost some, but is seemed most of the patrol was still here.

"We've dealt with the Avvar." I greeted her. Relief made my tongue heavy and my eyes pooled with a few tears. "Is everyone all right?"

"Yes." She answered readily and spared a glance at a few soldiers huddled in a corner. "We've tended to our wounded, but we can walk."

"Good. We'll lead you back." I commanded. A hard swallow drew back the tears that threatened to spill from relief. Blackwall and Bull moved into the room and started to gather people together, standing them up to their feet. My shoulders shook and a second after, Vivienne's hand came to rest over my shoulder.

She drew me away, her voice quiet and gaze gentle. "Go, step outside and have a moment, my dear. We'll see to them. Do not let them see you break." The muscles along my jaw clenched and I gave her a swift nod and beat a hasty retreat from the room. I returned to Korth's body and took up my maul. The Avvar's beastly weapon was beside him and I hesitated before reaching for it as well. _Bull needs a new weapon_.

And perhaps it could be a peace offering?

The shuffling of my soldiers sounded behind me and straightened to prepare the march back toward the main camp. My blood froze in my body as I spied a lone figure at the entrance of the ruined fort. _The shaman. Fuck me._ Hurriedly, I placed the second maul in the hands of Bull and jogged toward the Watcher before my soldiers came to be fully in his line of sight. Worry laced through my teeth as I clenched them and made them pulse with pain.

"Watcher." I greeted him lowly and braced for his reaction.

He smirked at me. "Your God looks after you, Herald." I winced, but offered him a nod in agreement. Now was most definitely _not_ the time or the place to bring up religious loyalties.

"The... chieftain's son is dead." I confirmed, holding my chin straight and my gaze up on his face. The shaman shifted on his feet, the maul over his shoulder swinging slightly and I nearly flinched, thinking he was going to strike me. Instead, he peered over my shoulder and seemed to look for the body to assess the statement himself.

"There lies the brat," he snorted. "His father, chief of our holding, would duel me for the loss, if he cared enough." My soldiers were coming up behind us. An idea struck through me, stuttering my heart. My companions, for as amazing as they are, would struggle on the return. We were low on potions, willpower, and energy. If the undead remained, or the mage that was hidden in the marsh appeared, we'd be fucked from here to the ninth level of hell.

"Come with us." I blurted, pinning him with a innocent look. "The Inquisition has a purpose your chief lacks." Bullshitting was a skill. I didn't know their customs, culture, or rites, but he was a shield that was in better shape than the rest of us. If I could get him to sway his loyalties and walk with us, we had a better chance of making it back to Harding.

"Huh." His deep gaze considered me under the metal brow of his helmet. "Is this why The Lady of the Skies led me here? To help heal the wounds in her skin?" My heart shuddered under my ribs and lungs. I hadn't thought of the religious angle for the argument and so I kept my mouth shut so as not to dissuade him from the train of thought.

He nodded after a moment or two, "Aye. I'll join you. Let me make peace with my kin, and I'll find where you set your flag." _Fuck, that's not what I need_. My lost patrol was keeping a healthy distance, with Vivienne and Blackwall holding the front as barriers of protection. Bull parted from them and lumbered up toward the Avvar and me. He stopped a pace behind my shoulder; a show of obedience to help solidify my claim as Herald, perhaps.

My thoughts sped into overdrive, "Come with us at least to the camp. There is a mage that's wandering the marsh that's helping create these rips in the air." Bull shot me a curious look. We _knew_ the mage couldn't be responsible for the rifts, _I_ knew the science behind it and that no mage was powerful enough _alone_ to do it. Here and now, it would not stop me from playing on the religious beliefs of a powerful ally.

There was a horrendously sour taste in my mouth because of it.

"Aye, all right." He nodded firmly. "Best to get that out of the way now, while you're here. Lead on, Herald." He shift on his feet and saluted me with a hard thump of his fist against his chest. I returned the gesture as solidly as I could, but my muscles were shaking under my skin from amazement that I had managed to convince him to follow us. I glanced at Bull and then back to my soldiers and party. A deep inhale to steady my bones and I waved over my shoulder to have them start the march.

Bull stayed at my left side as we made our way down the stairs toward the first fort. We kept a slow pace as some of our soldiers were suffering from broken bones and weak constitutions. _I'll have to have them checked for signs of plague or the disease._ The shaman wasn't too far from my right side and he was given a wide berth by my party at the rear.

"Watcher," I tossed the call over my shoulder, "do you know what happened to this place?"

"Death." He answered readily. "Plague. Last of the villagers fell to it. Cough first, then a fever the next day or so. After, snot from the nose and dry mouth. Vomiting, head pains, the cough has blood, then the chest pains appear, they can't breathe. The onset is quick, ten days or some such before death takes them."

I stopped dead in my tracks and Bull paused next to me, his eye narrowed down on my face. Terrified, I shared a quick look with him and then swiveled on a heel to shoehorn my body in the path of the Watcher. He paused, his head tilted at me curiously, and waited. _All those symptoms... the timeline - why there's no animals aside from those bloated bog-pigs..._

"Watcher." My voice was careful. "Did _any_ of the victims display signs of boils or swollen masses along here or here?" I raised my arm and tapped my armpit and then along my sternum and the inner portion of my waist and thighs. The Avvar's eyes narrowed on me and he lowered his maul, his head ducking down slightly to cut the distance between us.

"Yes." He answered, wary this time. "How did you know that? Those symptoms only appeared in the first few of my men, but the rest didn't have them."

"Shit fucking bitch," I swore suddenly, shoving past him toward Vivienne and Blackwall. My party straightened in alarm and I reached for the first woman who greeted me when we opened the door. Her pale face went white with alarm and she didn't struggle as I gripped her forearm and dragged her away from the rest of the party.

"What's your name?" I asked hastily. The woman shook a bit in my grip. Panic struck her from my reaction and she swallowed to regain some of her nerve. It must have been a sight to have the Herald come at you with a stony expression and a Mark brighter than the sun through the fog and muck of this marsh.

"Geraldine, Your Worship." She fought to keep her stutter clear from her words. I loosened my hold. My three companions were watching and I could see them strain to resist the urge to follow me and inquire as to my sudden change in demeanor.

"Geraldine, answer me honestly, okay? It's extremely important that you do not lie or omit anything. Any detail is important. Clear?" I stressed. She nodded quickly and I released her arm. Her hands came together in front of her, a nervous twitch to fidget with her fingers before she forced them apart and smacked them to her sides.

"Yes, Your Worship." She agreed. There was still a sliver of worry in her eyes. It was beginning to fade as she assessed my expression and my tone of voice offered no room for meekness.

"How long have you and your men been in this marsh? Like, actually in it, not just on the border or the edges?" I asked and prayed she had been in the marsh as long as it had taken me to get here. Scout Harding hadn't stepped beyond the first cabins due to the undead and the Avvar and it was a small blessing to know the likelihood of her being infected was slim.

"U-um, about a month, Your Worship." She bobbed her head thoughtfully. "We s-spent two or three weeks at the main camp, S-scout Harding sent word that you were to be a-arriving soon, so we decided to patrol the marsh." _Fuck_ , that left open the possibility of infection and incubation, but I couldn't blame her. I terrified her with my reaction, so I would need to help her think.

"Alright. So from the time you started patrol, to the time of capture, how long where you physically in the marsh?" I clarified, ducking my head to lessen my presence and calm her, if I could. My party was fidgeting behind me and Blackwall made a step to come toward us, but I raised my hand, palm out.

Bull caught the Warden's shoulder and held him in place. Geraldine's eyes shot between them and me. Forcibly, I exhaled and tried to soften my tone for her.

"Think, Geraldine." I soothed her as best I could despite my own panic swollen in my chest. "How long was it?"

"It was a-about three to four days, Your W-worship. We were attempting to map the marsh." She stuttered, her eyes trembling with her shoulders. "I cannot say for sure wh-when we were captured, as we were taken to our prison back there and there are no windows. We could not tell from then on."

A strained inhale and I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Did _anyone_ show signs of a fever, cough, or complained of chest pains? Did you see anyone with blue or pale lips, blood in their nose or mouth? Swollen skin or bruises that weren't fading?"

Geraldine's eyes widened and she shook her head. "N-no, Your Worship. There were only broken ribs and legs. Puncture wounds. No fevers or cough. Everyone could eat the rations we had and no one was without water. Our supplies maintained us." _Physical pains, but no plague. Thank God._ I sighed and reached up with both hands and held her shoulders. She held in a squeak as I looked up at her.

"Watch your men, from here until Haven. Do _not_ let them file in the ranks until the Chantry sisters and Adan take a look at them, do you understand?" They may not have shown signs and it was well past the marked days that it would manifest, but it was a risk I could not take. There was no absolute cure for the bubonic plague in my world, I highly doubted they had one here.

"Y-yes, Your Worship, I understand." She saluted me as best she could with my hands on her shoulders. I gave her a weak smile and clapped her on the back before leading us back to the party. Tension gripped all of us after that little scene and there was nothing to do for it now. With a nod to Vivienne and a sour-faced Blackwall, we continued our march.

It was silent as we went through the first fort. I sent Blackwall up to handle the release of the lever to open the front gate. From what we could see, the undead had dispersed. Made sense, otherwise I doubted the shaman would have arrived in the mint condition he was currently sporting. As we waited, Bull leaned his head slightly toward me, his voice low.

"Boss?" He prodded gently. I glanced back, but Vivienne was busy helping a kneeling soldier and they were out of earshot. Blackwall was just barely leaving the lever as the gate opened up and the shaman was at the mouth of the gate. My nose flared with a sigh.

"This plague is familiar to one I know, from... my other place." I whispered to the Qunari. His ears perked and his eye focused wholly on me. "We called it the bubonic plague. Same symptoms, same time of death..."

"You and Vivienne speculated this was a water-borne illness. Does that correlate?" He questioned, his only eye flickering up to mark Blackwall's pace as he returned from the second landing.

I shook my head, "Not quite. The bubonic plague was spread by ticks and mites. It could explain why there aren't other animals, as they usually get taken out first. This must have mutated, become a pneumonic plague instead, but... I dunno."

"All right. Are we in danger right now?" He didn't question my hesitation. I could barely remember the specifics of the plague from my college biology class, but it was a struggle. So many factors that I couldn't test, so many questions I didn't know how to ask. Another sigh and I shook my head, noting that Blackwall had fully returned.

"Not... likely." I started walking to keep the distance between us and the others. "But you and me? Maybe."

"Shit." He growled, straightening his back. He made no other movement and continued a casual pace at my side. I attempted to mimic him as best I could, because body language was just as telling as the spoken word. For added effect and to make sure the group behind us didn't speculate on the terror we were discussing, I reached out and patted his arm.

"We have a few days." I murmured to him. "If we get fevers by tomorrow, then we'll worry."

"Noted." Bull replied hollowly. I winced. This just had not been our day. Had it been a day? More than a day? I couldn't tell since the clouds from overhead hadn't shifted or changed colors. We were all exhausted and each step just made us weaker by the minute. I glanced over at the Watcher as he led us slightly from my far right in front. He had spent more time in this marsh than the rest of us, I was more than happy to allow him the reins.

The pillars served their purpose. It was leaps and bounds easier to follow the path with the veilfire leading the way back. We were at the second pillar when I stopped to spy the archway that lead into the alcove, the likely hiding place of the mage who had set up the traps of the undead.

Bull put a gentle hand at the small of my back and pushed me away, to follow the marching soldiers. Surprised, I looked up at him and he shook his head at me, great horns leaving deep shadows against his face and shoulders.

"We have other things to worry about." He murmured. "I'm not telling you _no_ , don't give me that look, I'm just saying _not now_."

"But what if they set up the pillars like traps again?" I asked but obediently followed his pushing hand. In all honesty, I wanted the excuse to ignore the threat of the mage. I was exhausted, my body hurt from my hair to my toenails, and I could feel bruises blooming under my skin from all the tumbles I had taken.

"It probably took them a lot of time and effort to do that." He reasoned with me, his head bobbing. "All I'm saying, boss, is that there's a time and a place. When we come back, we'll march right back here and get 'em, alright?" I spared another glance at the disappearing archway and then turned to look forward. Guilt gnawed at my lungs and pulled at my ribs as I hoped my desperation wouldn't harm more people.

"Okay," I exhaled, nervous. "Just... just this once."

He nodded, patting my back. "Just once, boss. Promise."


	21. ACT I: The Long Road Incoming

**Running On Empty:** _The Long Road Incoming_

* * *

We arrived at Haven like a sack of dead rodents. Moldy, rotten-smelling, pale corpses that hadn't seen the light of day in nearly a thousand years. Exaggerations, yeah, but that's what it felt like when the first of the troops spotted us coming up the road and hollered for reinforcements. At the front I kept the soldiers and my party at bay. I knew how badly they wanted to go back to their tents and rest, but the threat of the plague still loomed.

It had been a week and half to get back on horses, and two of my men had succumb to cough and shakes. The only healer among them had been unfamiliar with the plague and I didn't have enough general knowledge to assist them. One man died soon after his coughing started, the other was still hanging on by a thread. At the mouth of Haven, I kept Cullen back with a push of my hands against his chest and told him to get Adan. My lost patrol was quarantined, along with Scout Harding and her men.

Bull, Blackwall, and Vivienne were sectioned off with me in a different tent. Vivienne and Blackwall were given a quick bill of health as most of their bruising had disappeared and they had energy to spare with no other symptoms. Bull had a slight sore throat, but no fever and I hadn't eaten in a few days with my skin turning clammy. Joy. Away my other companions went, Vivienne to assist Solas with the samples I had brought back for Adan and Blackwall to retrieve someone for Bull.

Bull had a healer of his own, a man he called _Stitches_ , and god bless our fucking asses for that man. With a knowing nod from Bull, I divulged as much of my knowledge as I could to Stitches. He would convey the information to Adan and leave me in the clear of where an orphan had learned such things. They were mostly remedies and practices to help contain the spread of the disease. Stitches wrote nothing down and only stared at me as I vomited up my information. Once I was wrung dry, he glanced at Bull and his commander waved him away.

"Stitches will keep your secrets." Bull reassured me from his cot. He sat upright and kept a hot-water bag at the back of his neck. I had my own cot across from him, with six different blankets wrapped around me to keep my body from shivering into oblivion. I felt like an overheated cream-puff. Sticky and gooey in the center with too many layers of pastry wrapped around me. Maybe I was hungry after all? My gaze turned to Bull.

"... thank you." It was all I could think to say after a few beats of silence. Before our trip to the Fallow Mire (and fuck if that didn't feel like months ago rather than a two weeks), we had left on a sour note. Or rather, I had, with our conversation having turned into a desperate plea of _not insane._ We hadn't touched on it since and I was not keen to open that can of worms just yet.

Weakly, I croaked. "So. How _did_ you get the name The Iron Bull?"

"I picked it." He groused, his voice rough from the bottom of his chest to his tongue. "You know how it is from what I told you, Qunari have no names. Just titles."

"But why specifically _Iron Bull?_ " I prodded, the silence of the tent heavy in my ears.

"This may surprise you, but I _really_ like hitting things." He snorted, his eye landing on me. "Also, it's _The_ Iron Bull, technically. I like having an article at the front. It makes it sound like I'm not even a person, just a mindless weapon, an implement of destruction... That really works for me."

I hesitated. Bull had proven to be anything _but_ a mindless weapon. Even when he fought the guard for the Hand of Korth, he had done so with precision, hadn't taken a step or move out of place without my command. Mindless, certainly not, an implement of destruction, hell yes.

"Why bring that up?" He asked, his gaze having never left my face.

"What's in a name?" I murmured, a sudden strike of Shakespeare's Juliet hitting me from high school. Seriously, the weird shit you remembered at the oddest times. The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell and all that shit. His head tilted, curious, but once more he didn't push. A sigh escaped through my nose.

"It's... an old play, back... home." I stuttered. We were still in a tent with very thin leather barriers. I kept my voice low, my gaze glued to the ground. "Theater. A woman love-struck with a man, a boy really, from a rival family. _What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet._ "

"Is that a flirt?" Bull teased with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey," I grumbled. A blush shot over my face to my ears. "You smell like your name, fuck off." I had to fight a smile as his face broke out into a grin and a laugh soon followed. The muscles of my lower back and in my shoulders relaxed a fraction. Perhaps our relationship wasn't as strained as I thought it to be, not if I could still make him laugh.

"I dunno, boss. People are gonna talk if they hear that. Bad enough you handed me that maul." He retorted playfully. A blink brought the memory back. I _had_ shoved Korth's massive maul into Bull's hands. The distraction of the Watcher had been a greater concern than a peace-offering to the Qunari.

"Well, it _was_ going to be yours." I retaliated and scrunched my nose at him. "But if you can't handle it, I can give it to Amund. I'm sure he'll be glad to have it." The Watcher had asked about Korth's maul, but at my mention that I had given it to the Qunari, Amund had only laughed and told me it was a fitting 'gift,' whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean.

Both of his eyebrows rose on his forehead. "Amund? Was that the Avvar's name?"

"You do _not_ get to act like an idiot." I threw one of my sweaty rags at him. It landed on a horn and stole a laugh from me. "You knew perfectly well what his name was, fucker."

"Just checking. I'm actually surprised you remember his name, you aren't usually good with those." He pulled the rag from his horn and wrinkled his nose at it, tossing it to a bucket near the flaps of the tent. My gaze narrowed on his face, my mouth tight over my teeth.

"You know, you keep digging that hole and I'm going to bury you in chicken feathers."

"Aw, shit, Krem told you that story?"

I laughed, "Of _course_ he told me that story. Are you kidding? That kid boasts about your like you're his dad, but he's not afraid to give me the shittier details of some of your contracts. _Cock on the walk_ , if I recall." A harder laugh escaped me as a growl came up from his sore throat and broke into a cough.

"Kid needs to learn to keep secrets." Bull grumbled and dragged the hot-water bag from his neck. It must've gone cold already. He stood and moved to leave it in the bucket near the flaps, same as my rag. Instead of returning to his cot afterward, alarm bells rang in the small space of my heart as he made his way over to _mine_.

"So, now that the small chit-chat is over and the coast is clear, what did you _really_ need to talk about?" He asked once he was seated beside me. The cot was not poor quality, not for the Herald, but goddamn if it didn't bend to his weight the smallest amount. I huddled harder in my blankets and peered up at him, startled.

Suddenly, anything I wanted to bring up had been hard reset from my brain.

"I just," came the stutter with a swallow, "... I dunno." It was a chicken coop of a situation, all shaken up and left in tatters. To be honest with him meant that I laid bare a Murphy's Law of probabilities. The Qunari had only been with us for the better part of two months or so and to trust him with so much meant trouble.

"Walk me through your thought process?" He offered. His head tilted and the tip of one horn nearly brushed the top of the tent. I cast a glance up at it and then his face, but said nothing. His nose flared, "I think I get it."

"I haven't said a damn thing." I muttered with a furrowed brow. My gaze shot to his face accusingly.

"I'm a _spy_." He answered gently. "You don't have to tell me anything for me to know enough."

"That is not reassuring when my whole life here is based on lies." I snapped from under the cover of my blankets. There was a strange sense of boldness that came from being wrapped up like a burrito. An added layer of protection (that would probably do fuck-all against a determined Qunari) that allowed me to have some sense of focus.

He sighed and stood and walked toward the mouth of the tent and murmured something to a guard. He remained at the entrance of the tent until another shadow appeared from outside and in came the form of Solas, tired and bleary eyed, but awake and healthy.

I blinked and my gaze shot to Bull.

"Something changed with the Mark, back in the Fallow Mire." He began and gestured to my cot for Solas to take while he returned to his own cot across from me. My gaze followed him, alarmed at his speculation. "I saw it. Something worried you, because you took longer to recover from closing the rift."

"Jaime?" Solas peered at me and held his hand out to take my Marked one. Unwanted tears sprung to my eyes at the sound of my name as realization struck that I hadn't heard it in over a month. Perhaps Solas knew me better than expected, the sight of the tears didn't surprise him and he reached up to wipe them away and took my hand to inspect it.

Bull waited for a beat and continued, his voice low. "She managed to close _one_ rift, but there were traps laid by another mage that connected veilfire to summoning demons."

Solas' sharp eyes flashed to Bull. "Similar to a ritual?"

"Not quite." Bull shook his head. I remained quiet, shame flooded my throat. I was not ignorant that it was my place to tell Solas all of this, fuck, it should have been my top priority upon return, but I had been concerned with saving my soldiers and making sure the plague didn't kill them or spread. My eyes shut and more tears fell; _I'm still a failure._

"Where there any markings, sigils, or the like nearby?" Solas prodded the Qunari as he rubbed the palm of my hand with his thumbs, a soothing and comforting gesture that only sickened my stomach with more shame and disgrace. Bull's focus retreated from his gaze, dulled as memories filtered before he nodded.

"Actually, yeah. On the pillars there were these markings I could only see when Vivienne had veilfire in her hand near them." Bull answered with a bit of surprise. Solas' brow furrowed and a sigh left my lungs. _More shit I missed. Why hadn't I seen that? How the fuck did I miss something like that on the pillars when I knew they were traps?_

"That may have been what binds the demons to the veilfire and when it is lit, they have enough energy to come through the weakened Veil." Solas theorized in low tones. His brow pinched over his forehead and his gaze drew down to my Mark before swiftly coming up to my face.

I heard his silent question. "I couldn't sense those things like I can the rifts. I... was using the Mark to disperse the demons with contact."

Solas scowled and held my hand. "I warned you not to use that until we knew the side-effects."

"The side-effects are over-stimulation of the nerves, numbness, and delayed use of my arm. A few minutes at most." My answer was monotone and straight to the point. Tears still slipped down my cheeks, but the blankets hid most of them, at least from Solas. I hoped Bull was too far away to notice them.

"And with the rift?" Solas pressed, my hand still held in his.

I shrugged. "Same as before? The... pain doesn't last as long now. I still hear the spirits and..." Another hesitation. _The vision_. The one that I had gotten from the Despair demon while it was fighting Vivienne. To tell or not to tell? Lots of misquoted Shakespeare today, my English 101 professor would be so proud.

Solas turned to Bull, "Iron Bull, I think -"

"He knows, so don't bother sending him away." I interrupted weakly. For the first time since this discussion started, Solas' eyes honed on me like a laser, to view me and not just my connection to the Mark. I cleared my throat gently. "He knows my name. That I'm not an orphan. That I'm not from here, but... not from _where_."

"Jaime," Solas breathed, a lecture at the back of his tongue.

"It doesn't matter." My answer was sour as was my glare. I withdrew my hand so he couldn't use it to coerce me into spilling my guts. "He'll figure it out sooner or later, either because he heard it from me or he stole the information from Leliana or Josephine."

Solas winced and turned to Bull with a hot glare.

"I didn't force it out of her, so back off." Bull answered with a calm twitch of his nose. "She offered the information and I've told no one."

"Your superiors?" Solas accused sharply.

" _No one_ ," the Qunari reaffirmed, "I'm not an idiot, Solas. If word got out that she's from a different place, a different world, a different plane of existence, the Qunari would _not_ wait to hit Thedas. She could be anything, in their eyes. A demon disguised as a human, a mage who _is_ powerful enough to _make_ the Breach - you _know_ how much we hate magic."

"She is none of those things." Solas retorted heatedly.

" _I_ know that, now." Bull reassured him with a raised hand. "And I have no doubt that you lot believe it, too, but its easier to convince a small group of people than to convince a sovereign power."

Solas' shoulders stiffened, "We should not be having this discussion here. Let us continue in the War Room." The elf brokered no argument as he took off a few layers of my blankets and bundled me tighter in the ones closest to my body. A shiver still raced through my muscles and I ducked my head as we were led out of the tent, Bull a pace or so behind us. Commander Cullen spied our movement and hastily left his command to his lieutenant before catching up with Bull.

I could feel Solas' sideways glance, the frustration that boiled just under his teeth, but I said nothing and kept my chin tucked to my neck as we walked. Soldiers and civilians stared as we walked by, Varric caught sight of us and took a few steps forward before he stopped. Worry marked his face and I made a mental note to talk to him soon.

The march to the War Room was silent. Leliana saw us from her tent and followed without a word, falling in step with Cullen behind Bull. Josephine was hailed from her room as I was ushered into the War Room, the musty smell of the maps and books a welcoming familiarity in this turbulent storm.

The Hydra gathered in their usual places, Solas beside me where Cassandra would normally stand. Bull off to my right and closer to Josephine. There were a few awkward seconds of silence as I peeled off the blankets. Cullen made a noise in the back of his throat and I remembered the bruises and cauterized wound that scarred my skin, visible through my loose tunic.

"It's fine, Cullen." My voice felt dull. "Vivienne healed it and it's only a small scar."

"Very well," Leliana pressed forward with her eyes on Bull, "may I inquire as to this meeting, Herald?"

"Bull, Mark, Fallow Mire, in that order." I answered sourly. An inhale settled in my lungs for a moment. "... I told him some of my story." The response was immediate. Leliana and Cullen's faces grew dark and wary, their gazes flashing to Bull to assess the new possibility of danger. Josephine was less bloodthirsty than the other Heads, but she nonetheless stiffened and raised her chin.

"How much?" Cullen asked tightly.

"Enough that I can speculate." Bull answered for himself. The Hydra turned toward him and he was none the more worried for it. "She's too educated to be an orphan all her life, less wild and more civil like a noble, her dialect is obscure _at best_ , and some of the civilians were more than willing to talk about the strange clothes she appeared in."

I winced, _fucking more evidence that we didn't think to cover. Christ._

"And to cut it at the head right now, _no_ ," he continued, his gaze leveled with Leliana, "no messages, secret or otherwise, have been sent to my superiors about the information. The minute they find out, you'll have an invasion on your hands."

"I thought as much." Leliana sighed, her arms behind her back.

"Herald, why would you... share this pertinent information without discussing it with us first?" Josephine tsk'ed disapprovingly. A flare of anger scraped along the inside of my throat and I narrowed my eyes at her. She hadn't meant it with complete accusation, but fuck if it didn't burn like one.

"Personal privilege." I snarled quietly. "And he had already figured out _some_ of it before I even touched the subject with him, so I figured it was _pertinent_ he know enough so as not to accuse me of insanity." Josephine reeled at my tone and blinked hard at my expression. She cleared her throat and moved to answer, but Leliana was swifter.

"A wise decision." Leliana agreed with a nod. "Truth, even omitted parts, is better than a lie. I wondered how long we would be able to keep it from you. I suppose not very long at all."

"I'm good at my job." Bull muttered. "I also realize how dangerous this information is. Word gets out, the Inquisition loses all creditability. Doesn't matter what she's accomplished, it'll all go up in flames."

"The Andraste reference is not appreciated." Josephine remarked, lips tight over her teeth.

Bull blinked, and then snorted. "What I'm _trying_ to say is that I'm as willing as you all are to keep it secret. The Inquisition is the only organization right now that's doing _anything_ about the Breach."

"You do not believe the Qunari would be just as capable?" Solas stung viciously from my other side.

"The Qunari coming here under force is a _bad_ idea." Bull shot back over my head. "I don't think anyone wants a repeat of Kirkwall."

"No." Cullen interjected with a glare at Bull. "No, we don't."

Bull raised a hand to calm him, "That, and the freedoms you give the boss would be gone. She's... she'd be considered a tool. Plain and simple. They'd escort her to rifts, but she wouldn't have any command, not like she has here. You do know how demoralizing that would be to your people, right?"

"I've theorized, yes." Leliana answered with another nod. "Even if we managed to work with the Qunari, if it was not on _equal_ terms, she'd be caged much like your _saarebas._ Those in the Inquisition would revolt, there would be chaos."

"And we hate that just about as much as we hate magic." Bull agreed with a snort. "I'm not asking to be let in on every secret meeting you have, it's just a precaution to warn you that _I_ _know_."

"It will be taken into account." Cullen muttered through clenched teeth. His nose pinched over his mouth as he exhaled roughly and turned to me. The focus had ping-ponged over my head for a while now and I was not keen to interrupt it. I had never seen anyone aside from Cassandra take on all _three_ Hydra Heads at the same time and it was damn impressive.

"Herald." Cullen called my attention. "The Mark?"

"It's been changing for a while now." I answered dully and pulled up my loose sleeve to give my Mark visibility. I turned my eyes to Solas. "I can sense the demons, if they're close enough, like I can the rifts before they open."

"You can do that?" Josephine sparked with surprise. "Was that always possible?"

"I do not believe so." Solas answered for me, his eyes between my Mark and Josephine. "Jaime mentioned that before, during our trek up to the Temple, she couldn't sense anything from the Fade, but after the Breach was closed, the sensations became stronger."

"The first rift I closed after that was at Lake Luthias, after recruiting Blackwall." I continued and cleared my throat. My gaze flickered between the Hydra Heads. "It was then that I could - that I figured out I could _feel_ the rift before it tore open, and I could hear the spirits before they fell through the tear."

"Then it's not a willing transition?" Leliana questioned quickly. "Are they only spirits that are pulled through due to unfortunate timing?" I hesitated and glanced at Bull. The Qunari appeared confused, his brow pinched together. My lips pressed together and an exhale shot through my nose.

"No." I replied slowly. Solas and Leliana's gazes pinned me. "Not all of them. Some of them are already demons when they come through."

"That one big beastie." Bull exhaled roughly. "It was already a demon and forced its way through?"

"What are you talking about?" Solas demanded with a low tone. He turned to me, his expression tight over his face. "Jaime?" With another sigh, I reached for pieces of parchment. Again, as it had been so many months ago, my Hydra hurried to produce the items I needed. Hastily, I drew what I could remember of the creature.

"It's not perfect." I hadn't practiced drawing in all the time I was here, aside from my crude map of Earth. "It was dark and I had a Despair demon to contend with, but this thing was attacking Bull and Blackwall."

"What is that?" Cullen leaned over, his hand on the pommel of his sword. Leliana tilted her head to inspect it, being the closest, and Josephine shuffled to Cullen's side to peer at my half-assed drawing of the towering creature that left claw marks on Bull's back.

"A Revenant." Solas murmured disbelievingly. He turned his eyes to me. "In the Fallow Mire, where there corpses around?" The Iron Bull and I shared a hard snort. Solas focused his momentary glare over my head at the Qunari and waited for my reply with a sigh.

"That was the other part." I answered wearily. "The Fallow Mire seems to be diseased with a plague I recognize from my world. We called it the bubonic plague."

"Cause and symptoms?" Leliana's face went hard at her question. My focus shifted to her, the conversation had already derailed in multiple ways, I might as well keep with the thread I had created.

"Bubonic is caused by infected blood of an animal being transmitted through ticks or mites to a human." I dipped my head and scratched at the back of my neck as I recalled the information. "Usually that's how it spreads, but this seems like a mutated form, a pneumonic plague, passed through other fluids like water or spit, with no need for ticks or some such."

"According to the Avvar Watcher that was with us, the symptoms are cough, fever, chest pains, bloody mucus, shortness of breath and then death." Bull continued, stepping a pace closer to my side. I tilted my head up at him and he glanced at me with his one eye, to which I answered with a shake of my head; _continue_.

"The plague seems to survive in a host for ten days." Bull added, nodding to me. "The boss also mentioned that boils or warts appear in specific areas. Stitches will have that information, and he'll pass it along to Adan."

"Good." Leliana sighed, her soul heavy under her ribs. "It was worse than we feared, then. Scout Harding had mentioned that the village had died off, we hoped it would have contained the disease."

"Nope," I interjected, "Plague doesn't care. It'll incubate. Pass along through animals. Those bog-pig-things we saw that you'll find in the bestiary? They are probably resistant to the disease, but will still carry it. Best not to hunt them for food."

"Noted." Cullen ran a hand down his face, scratching hard at his chin. "What a nightmare. What does that have to do with the Revenant, Solas?" Like a television camera, our gazes shifted to the elf who had his brow deep over his eyes and nose in thought.

"A Revenant is usually a demon of Pride or Desire that takes possession of a corpse." His gaze shot up to Cullen as if warning the man. "Something that powerful to come through and _still_ have enough energy to possess _and_ reanimate a corpse is deadly indeed. If there are any more in the area, further exploration will have to be extremely cautious."

"Hell the fuck no." I interrupted hotly. Several pairs of eyes landed on me and my gaze bounced between Leliana and Cullen. "No one else goes to the Fallow Mire. Not with the disease. The traps were sprung, but the mage is still around and could reset them. No one else but me goes back there."

"You came back half-dead, Herald." Solas muttered disapprovingly. My heels rocked back to draw my spine to its full length and I stared at my companion. He said no more, but his eyes were stern on my face. I took note that I had been tilted _Herald_ and not Jaime.

"Exaggeration," I breathed, attempting to remain calm, "no one _else_. I can deal with the demons and the mage. But for now, let's focus on recovery and the Storm Coast. There was only _one_ rift in the Mire, from what I could sense." Solas looked keen to argue, his mouth twisted over his teeth and under his nose, but he only exhaled and neutralized, standing with his hands behind his back.

I'm not one-hundred percent sure that it was a victory, but I would take it.

Cullen nodded, watching the tension between me and Solas. "Let's get you rested, then, and we'll have a company set up to travel with you to the Coast in a week's time."

"Thank you." I tucked my tunic closer, folds of fabric tucked under my arms, and turned to leave. It was colder in that War Room than it was outside.

Bull dutifully followed me out.

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 **Note:** _So I have been wondering for a while if anyone would like snippets of moments unseen for this story. Not from Jaime's POV, but from her companions. Anyone want to suggest a scene from the previous chapters? Let me know._


	22. ACT I: Falling From Grace

**Running On Empty:** _Falling From Grace_

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 **Note:** _Hey guys! Just an update/rewrite on this chapter. One reviewer let me know about an inaccuracy writing up Krem's character and I agreed. Unfortunately, due to limited material source (the game doesn't offer much in the way of Krem's bio aside from what Bull and he tell us), I've done the best I've can to adjust the dialogue. If anyone has any suggestions, give me a holler!_

* * *

By day two of my enforced rest and recuperation, I was stir-crazy. I never realized how often I was on the move or in action until I was forced to sit my ass down and recover. The inside of my cabin drove me nuts, watching the shadows flicker as the sunlight faded and night took over. I was quaranteed for the better part of the first two days (true, on _my_ orders) to allow any chance of infection to appear without endangering the whole community. Once Adan was satisfied that I wasn't a walking biohazard, I was released back into the frigid freedom of Haven.

I still had few more days of 'rest,' as Cullen, Leliana, _and_ Josephine were unanimous in giving me a vacation. It didn't feel like one, I had figurative ants crawling along my legs and the wounds I had suffered, both emotional and physical, were now distant, foggy memories. I suppose, if anything, this was going to be a week that I finally caught up with my peers and companions. Harritt, true to my predictions, was far from pleased at the state of my armor, but he took it with a grumble and set to fixing it.

Blackwall and I were tentative around each other that day I visited Harritt. From what I could tell, there was still some sour-tasting, unresolved emotions between us. He had continued to foster being perturbed at my audacity to take the burden of fighting the Avvar alone. I was a chicken-shit that was well and truly burned from my last soul-bearing conversation with Bull. I would let the Warden fester, if only in the hopes he would _let it go_.

Though in the beginning, had he known me and had I not had a turbulent force like Cassandra with me, I would have happily curled up into his shadow and allowed him the lead in all things Inquisition and protection. Funnily, I found I was not that girl now. Don't get me wrong, my anxiety was through the ceiling at the thought that I was here, lounging around in Haven and 'recovering' when I had patrols out on the Storm Coast waiting for my return to deal with the banditry that had set up there, and depression made conversation a nightmare, but.

I couldn't buy into my fear anymore. It was a bit hard, what with being capable enough to swing a maul like a baseball bat.

You know. Now that I considered it, I had also distanced myself from another companion; Solas. Our conversation in the War Room had been less than ideal, and it was much the same situation with different colors. Placing myself in unknown danger with tools that potentially served me not at all. The Mark was, _is_ , still very much a threat to my person, especially once I had told The Hydra and Solas of the side-effects.

Hence, Solas found himself locked away, studying most likely, in his cabin.

 _He likes me not;_ that made two petals plucked from the flower.

Here I was, curled over a half empty tankard of who-knows-what-Cabot-gave-me, mulling and moping over my situation. It seemed like everything I did was in extremes. I was brave enough to charge head-on into a rift's screaming maw or face first into the blow from an Avvar, but I cowered at the disappointed expressions of The Hydra or my friends.

Dark thoughts fluttered through me, as well. Could they be considered friends? Solas was here simply on the misfortune of being dragged into this mess because of his knowledge of the Fade. Varric was here because he had already been chained to Cassandra's side at the start of it all. Leliana, Cullen, Josephine were here just like Vivienne and Blackwall stayed; simply because they felt obligated to meet the challenge that faced their world.

The Iron Bull was here as a spy.

I was here because the Fates That Be aligned in such a way as to rip me from one world into another. I wasn't lost anymore, I knew what I had to do, but now more than ever the isolation twisted around my ribs and pulled them inward like a tightened corset. _I miss Cassandra,_ came the mulish thought, repeating itself for the umpteenth time. The tankard rolled between my palms and caught on the uneven table top. The bar-part-inn was quiet save for Maryden who sang her hymns softly into tired and worn faces.

 _Can I even consider Cassandra a friend?_ Blackish, muggy thoughts slimed through my brain. What had Cabot given me, honestly? The tankard was pushed away. My arms folded across each other, hands on my opposite elbows and my chin sunk into the flesh of my arms, resting on the table. Why was I trying to make or keep friends while the world was burning around me? Why would I bother asking them? It was childish and too reminiscent of elementary school to wonder if someone liked me or not.

This, _this_ right here was the very reason I didn't take vacations.

A shadow passed behind me and to my right. My left hand (and The Mark) tucked into the crook of my elbow to keep it hidden. For all the fame I so torturously gathered to myself (read: sarcasm), many of my constituents were bothered by the sight of my claim to exaltation. With a glance to the right, surprise struck me faintly as Aclassi's face entered my vision.

"Lieutenant," I breathed, startled by his presence. The length of my spine straightened as I sat upright. "Are you - is everything okay?"

"I'm fine, Your Worship, thank you." He chuckled and carefully pushed away my half-empty tankard to replace it with a cup of cool water. Tentatively, my fingers curled around it and brought it close, but I still graced him with a puppy's tilt of my head, confusion pinched at my brow.

"You look tired." He said unceremoniously. A smaller mug of something warm steamed between his fingers. "I thought you were supposed to be resting?"

"I am." I murmured absently, understandably still confused by his presence. _Did something happen?_ "This is my 'Everything's Swell' face."

"More like 'Someone Twisted Your Knickers' face, I would say." He answered readily and casually sipped at his mug, his gaze momentarily flickering to Maryden, her voice hung in the air as she sung gently over the troubles of the Empress.

A laugh sparked from me. "What an expression to recognize on someone's face, Aclassi." A wicked sort of grin flashed over his lips and a thrill of humor hummed under my heart. Desperately, my heart gripped my ribs and rattled its cage, an unrelenting wheeze of desire pressed behind my bones at the small offering of companionship. I took it, greedily.

"What brings you into my orbit, Aclassi?" I asked. A sip of the cool water strangely warmed my stomach and brought focus to my muddy thoughts. _Where the hell was I going with that train wreck? Christ._

"Well." He hesitated, his gaze brought back to me from the bard. "... I was wondering if you could take a walk with me? It's a bit personal." Immediately my back fired like a rail gun and sprung tight under my skin. A nod of my head agreed for me before my words could and it had Aclassi finishing his small mug in a few gulps before we stood.

We waved goodbye to Cabot and Maryden, Sera watched us with narrowed, suspicious eyes, but Aclassi came around to my left with a winning smile, blocking me from sight as we made our way to the exit. Once there and stepping out into the cold, he bent his arm for me to take with my hand. A nervous glance between his smile and his arm stopped me, but with a nudge from him, my Marked hand came up to rest gently in the hollow of his elbow.

So we walked, silent and slow between the huts of Haven, out toward the main gate and down past the steps and Harritt's lodge. We were not, I noticed, making our way toward the Chargers camp that was nestled out by the hill's root just beyond the lake. Aclassi's feet took us steadily along the road out to the skirts of Haven. Another set of eyes watched us, Blackwall crossed his arms as we passed, but shamefully I hid against Aclassi's side and ignored the Warden.

"Not easy getting a moment's rest when everyone's watching you, waiting for you to snap." Aclassi murmured near my head. My body shifted a bit to allow a breath between us, I had apparently huddled to his side not only in shame, but for warmth. A shrug answered his words, he was right and I was reluctant to admit it. Everyone was worried, didn't matter how many times I told them I was fine.

"I have The Mark," I went by way of explanation, "I'm never going to look well-rested. It's a parasite."

"A meat hook pulling the inside out." He replied softly. Our feet continued along the smoothed dirt path and dipped into gentle slope that led down into another valley. The trees were just as thick here as they were by the Chargers camp and out near the logging site that Haven used. The Inquisition worked this area, too, but not as extensively. It was inches closer to the Breach over our heads, and if it could be avoided, it would be.

"Something like that, yeah." Minutes had stalled my response, _he wasn't there when I told Bull, right? No. He must've been told._ I didn't know where we were headed, but I was trusting Aclassi not to murder me so close to Haven. Several pairs of eyes had glared at our passing and to return without me was laughable. We finally stopped at a part down the road, before we hit a fork that would split toward the decimated Temple of Sacred Ashes and the other toward the open world of Ferelden.

"So what was it about something personal?" I prompted. My butt had found a solid seat on a pile of shattered firewood, covered in snow and perhaps forgotten. Aclassi hesitated with his feet shuffling under him. A snort escaped me and laughter came up in a bubble. "It's a bit late to be nervous now, you just walked out with the Herald. People are gonna talk."

A grin came to his face and he turned his gaze toward me. "I suppose getting caught with the Herald isn't all bad." Another laugh escaped me, because his smile was genuine and teasing, but far beyond anything romantic. That smile, and his attitude, reminded me too much of my older brother. A pang of affection reverberated in my chest and it relaxed me.

"Say that after you've actually seen me in the morning." I teased, notching a finger at him. For the briefest moment, happiness warmed me.

The lieutenant's grin grew and he relaxed, shoulders dropping. "That's fair, but consider that my boss is a Qunari and I've seen things."

More laughter bubbled up within me, my hands clapped in front of my chest. "Like twisted _knickers_ , for instance?"

"Yeah, no. Good thing it wasn't his knickers, if he wears 'em." He paused, a face was made, and then: "Ugh, _right_. Moving on." Breathless laughter held me hostage against the pile of firewood and Aclassi's tan face bloomed with a blush that nearly reached his ears. It was several seconds before laughter didn't strike me with all the force of lightning at the sight of Aclassi's face.

"Alright, my bad. Derailed conversation." My thumbs wiped at my eyes, my abdominals twitching as faint laughter still tickled from within my gut.

"What I had _wanted_ to talk about, vehemently ignoring the imagery of any Qunari _knickers_ ," he hissed at me, grin teasing, "was talking about the Qunari himself. He's been quieter than usual lately, and it's been worrying some of the guys." A figurative bucket of ice doused any bout of humor that still lingered within my soul and I shuddered. There was a quiet pause that was slowly growing heavy.

My sigh broke through it. "That's... I'm probably the one to blame for that. How is that personal, though? Is Bull thinking of pulling out?" It would make sense, as much as my heart trembled at the thought of losing a companion, people were free to do as they wanted. If he wanted to keep his people safe, I wasn't about to argue against it.

"No, he's been acting... different. Not strange. He's always been upfront with us, but when you returned from the Mire, there was..." Aclassi's face had warred between confusion and frustration, his brow puckered from effort and his hands fluttered around him, grasping at straws to explain himself. Nothing seemed to work.

"Did he say anything to you about me?" I asked neutrally, my gaze level on his face and empty. My heart shriveled behind my lungs, wondering if Bull was now planning on turning his back on us, not to keep his people safe, but to turn them on me. _What dark thoughts you have, my dear_ , my wicked wolf sang.

 _All the better to bury myself with,_ I replied softly.

Aclassi shook his head, "No, but that's... where it gets personal. I don't know what's going on between you and the big guy, but he's still - he's our commander, and he doesn't like it, but we worry about him, and whatever happened has him all knotted up."

Gently, my brow furrowed. "How... do you know he's been acting different?"

"Strangely," Aclassi exhaled roughly, eyes pinned on me, "he's gentler with us, like he's considering something about us. He knows us inside and out, I don't know what he's looking for, but he's got his mind focused on it, almost to the point of distraction." Contemplation struck me as I considered the lieutenant before me. Bull may have been a spy, but everyone was fallible. Everyone could make a mistake.

The young solider stood before me, his eyes begging for answers.

"Stitches knows some of it." I began, listless in my tone. A inhale drew through my lungs but helped nothing with my nerves. My gaze fell to Aclassi's feet. My hand wrung together, fear laced my throat like acid. "Probably figured out much of what I am is a lie."

"Everyone's got secrets, we know that." Aclassi placated gently. "I just don't know why the big guy would be so worried about them _now_."

"Because now the implications are more than just whether or not I get an inheritance." I murmured. I couldn't give Aclassi the whole story, but he was less capable than Bull in keeping his demeanor under pressure. Bull had years of training, and true he was slipping now, but he could manage to keep a secret.

 _Partial truths are better than nothing._

"You're not an orphan, I can understand that." Aclassi huffed, attempting to keep his tone light.

"I'm not an orphan, I'm... not from here, Aclassi." My hands shook. Of all the people I had considered telling my story, Aclassi was so out of left field that I didn't even consider him to be in the same sporting event. Carefully, I brought my gaze up to his face and it was marred with a twisted mouth, trying to piece together the vague statements I threw at him.

"I can give you the basics, so maybe you can understand where your boss is coming from, yeah?" Aclassi's nod was tentative and short, his ears flushed with his nerves and his hands clenched at his sides. Instinctively, I reached over and patted the logs beside him, beckoning him to sit. The hesitation was small, but he caved and came next to me, close enough to keep me warm.

I smiled and tipped my head to him. "It's Jaime Wyatt. I'm twenty-six, for sure, but I'm not from here. I don't have a family here, but I've been in one. Brothers, mother, father. I'm educated, I know a lot more about how the world works, but not how _this_ world functions." Perhaps I was giving too much away? There was no guarantee that Aclassi would keep my secret, or whatever he gleamed from it.

"I'm not what I appear to be," I murmured, my hands shaking as I gripped them together, "but if people knew what I was, I would be dead." An exaggeration? Maybe. I doubted anyone would be able to get past Leliana to hang a noose around my neck for my heretical existence, lest of all Cassandra, but the religious sort sometimes got a little too excited.

Aclassi sat next to me, his elbows on his knees and his back hunched, his head bowed and his gaze to the dirt path in front of us. We sat together for several minutes and I didn't elaborate further, because then I was only added more to the storm rather than calming it. I would have to let Aclassi come to his own conclusions.

And he did.

His head raised and I turned to look at him, my expression carefully silent of emotion. His dark eyes bore into me and it was all I could do not to flinch and drop my chin to my chest, bring my eyes away from whatever he looked for within them. This might have been what it felt like with his Qunari commander peering into them after the Fallow Mire.

"He's reassessing us." Aclassi murmured and leaned back to stare out into the woods before us. "He's assessing who can be trusted. Damn. I should have recognized it."

"I mean, technically." I teased weakly. "You did."

A hand ran through his short hair. "Damn, whatever you told him... it's got him scared. Scared enough that he's got to reevaluate the team." My head tilted, surprised. I hadn't considered the fact that my little story could scare someone like the Iron Bull. On reflection, I should have seen that it would. Someone appearing through the Gates of the Dead (for reference), armed with a singular tool that would make or break Armageddon.

I blinked, _shit. I hadn't thought about that_ ** _at all_. **

"Aclassi." I whispered. "What do you think I am?"

The man blinked over at me, confused, and stuttered: "A girl? A woman, pard'n, Your Worship. A woman... thrust into our world through... unusual means, in a desperate time in our lives."

"Is that all?" A chuckle came up and I turned toward him. "Sounds like one of Varric's stories."

"I don't see why you couldn't be." Aclassi answered helplessly. "Fell from the Breach, close rifts, fight demons, mysterious background, I mean - Maker, you're just missin' the love interest."

My eyebrows waggled. "Interested?" Whatever tension that had gripped Aclassi popped at my suggestion and the lieutenant caught himself in a snort of laughter, face red from his nose to his chin. A grin flirted with my mouth, pleased to have gotten him out of his spiral into the unknown. I had been there before and though I struggled to save myself from it, it was easy to pull someone else from the brink.

"Nah, I don't think I'm your type, Your Worship." He snorted.

Mockingly offended, and not quite ready to return to the dire situation at hand, I huffed. "Excuse you. How would you know? Said it yourself, I don't have a love interest."

"No, that's mostly because Qunari don't recognize your style of flirting, if I may say so." Aclassi returned swiftly, a smirk planted firmly on his face. Heat engulfed my ears and my blood pressure rushed into my sinuses and open cavities of my eardrums. With a narrow gaze, I pinned him with a finger.

"You snitch and you're getting stitches, Aclassi."

"So it _is_ the boss."

My hand came down on his head and shoved, but the lieutenant was hiccupping with laughter regardless of my scorn. Desperately I fought the smile that threatened to break across my face. Just an hour or so before and I was lamenting the blackness that was my soul in a world of no friends and this creature swooped in to take my terror and transform it.

Again, my heart swelled with affection for the young man and my smile won over.

"In any case," I diverted, "don't let anyone tell you that you're not a handsome man, Aclassi."

The young man flushed and cleared his throat, hesitant. "Well... if we're sharing revelations... figured I wasn't your type on account that I was _born_ a woman, just prefer being... me." For the briefest, tiniest nanosecond my world paused and tilted. A blink later and I glanced at him obliquely. We shared a look and in the end, I pouted. It had been a revelation, as it hadn't occurred to me that transgender folk would exist even in a world not my own. _But that's stupid. It's probably like it was in my world, they exist, but the taboo hasn't been fully removed. Fuck._ Instead of tripping over my idiocy, I focused my gaze on Aclassi.

"That's not fair." I finally said, much to his surprise.

"Wut?" He hiccupped. "What isn't fair?"

"If I tried pulling off a haircut like that, I'd look like a mabari. Unfair ambiguous facial structure." My pout cemented my comment and had Aclassi in another round of laughter, a hand to his mouth as he shook his head, perhaps pinched by my audacity. Nothing in his appearance changed for me, now knowing that he mirrored my genitalia only meant he was far better at keeping secrets than I had given him credit for.

"Well. That's, that's not the response I was expecting, but I'll take it." He held out his hand to me and instinctively, I took it, charmed by our little bonding moment. "To well kept secrets, aye?"

"Aye, aye." I grinned and pumped his hand once, only to follow up with a very weak imitation of a fist bump. He stared at me, confused, and shook his head a second time.

"See, now I understand why the boss is worried. If we weren't the Chargers, anyone else would think you were mad." Aclassi stood and brushed off his backside. He raised a hand for me and I took it again, standing with a slip off the log and brushing my pants with my free hand.

"I'm not mad, I'm not the one that took a contract to wear chicken feathers."

Aclassi smirked, folding my hand in his arm to lead us back toward Haven. "Madly in love, maybe."

"Snitches get stitches, Aclassi. Remember that."

That was one flower petal in my favor, at least.

There was a bit of pondering to do now. Aclassi and I traveled back up the path to Haven where we parted ways. He was off back to the Chargers camp and I needed to take a detour and talk to a certain Warden. Iron Bull was reassessing his people, calculating who could be trusted in case word got out, _in case_ Stitches said too much, _in case_ the refugees of Haven continued to talk. I had been ignorant to think that no one else would have heard.

Warden Blackwall was a man intensely focused and driven, Lady Vivienne with her elegant spider's web amongst the nobles and Chantry, Sera who's ear was pressed under the ground of the commoner's world, and Varric, a long-standing companion who's imagination and clever tongue had gotten him a failed audience with the late Divine Justinia.

I could no more play them the fools than I could play the innocent orphan girl. There were far too many things ingrained in all of us that couldn't be scratched away with a few words or practiced mimicry. Reflectively, I knew Sera would not care too much about who or what I was, only that I got the job finished and she could go back to her way of things. I suspected that any mention of other dimensions or worlds would not be her cup of tea based on her reaction to the Fallow Mire.

Varric, I felt, deserved much more than I had given him credit for, given the long weeks and months that he had cared for me in the beginning. He never questioned my odd nature, or my anxieties, or my terrors as I faced the world of Thedas. He merely comforted and offered what support he could, without payment. Yes, the dwarf was owed much more than I had given him.

Blackwall and Vivienne, though proven skilled, were still a stone's throw from being completely trusted. Vivienne, despite her sharpened honesty that fell from her tongue, clearly had other plans beyond the Inquisition. She meant to survive and see past the finish line, that was for damn sure. What her goal was, I didn't know her well enough to speculate, and I wasn't Bull, so I couldn't analyze people like he could.

The Warden was another unknown. Though fiercely patriotic to Thedas and saving it from hell, his own history was about as dubitable as mine. A lone and haggard warden misplaced from his kin, and those same kin nowhere to be found. Did it have anything to do with the Breach? I couldn't begin to speculate on that either, but it made trusting him with my story even less likely.

Blackwall and Vivienne, for the moment, were two checks on the list of 'Possibly'.

Varric was a 'Most Definitely'.

Sera was a 'I Don't Fucking Know'.

Oddly, I was reluctant to start with Varric. I trusted the dwarf with more than my life, for certain, but conjecture led me to believe he would be the most long-winded conversation (hopefully). Vivienne was too far off into the bowels of the Chantry with Solas and pouring over the skin samples. Sera was a ghost amongst the people of Haven, so that left me with my nearest and most pressing companion: Blackwall.

My nose scrunched at the idea, but do as I must, I trudged up to the cabin he had taken up with Harritt. The Warden in question sat atop a wooden crate with a knife in one hand and a block of misshapen wood in the other. As I drew closer, I could see the faint makings of a ship, or an extremely misfortunate duck. As my shadow drew over his shoulders, he took a few seconds more to swipe off a slice or two of wood before he leaned back to peer up at me.

"Finally come to talk, have you?"

 _Oh, it's going to be like that, is it?_

"It just occurred to me that I should, but by your tone of voice, this was planned." I replied waspishly. It was the wrong fucking foot to start on, but I wasn't going to be made to feel guilty _already_. I mean, I already _did_ with all the secrets I hoarded under my heart, but he didn't need to know that (or salt it further). My hands balled into fists and were shoved into the pockets of my coat. The Warden stood and I made no attempt to step back as he invaded my space and we were a hand length apart.

I had faced down Leliana, there was hardly _any_ human that scared me more than her.

"What's - no." He exhaled roughly and tossed the mutilated wooden duck (ship?) onto the crate, the wood giving a small clatter. "I don't know what's going on anymore."

"Well, at least we're at square one together." The joke was reflexive, and unappreciated if his frown was anything to go by.

"I need you to be honest with me." He demanded lowly. "Because I don't understand what you're planning anymore."

A sigh rattled through me and I lent back but kept my feet firmly planted. "Give me your perspective, and we'll see where we've missed each other."

" _This_ ," he growled with an impulsive wave of his hand over Haven, "as I understood it, our duty was to close up the rifts and seal the Breach, save these people, Maker - _help_ them, even, if the opportunity presented itself." I remained quiet, because I had given him full permission to vent until his balls turned blue. When he saw that I was not going to retaliate (because why would I, I didn't know what bothered him yet), he flared under his coat and his beard bristled with the twitch of his cheeks.

"But this last mission, you seem intent on _divesting_ yourself of that responsibility." He finished with a tucked chin. At my confused blink, he added: "Back at the Fallow Mire, I didn't see a leader doing the best for her men, I saw a woman throwing herself at danger and not seeming to give a lick about what happened to her."

"Excuse you," I snapped, unable to hold my tongue with a quiet fury building beneath my bowels, "are you calling me suicidal?"

"If the key fits," he answered darkly, a strange twist to the ellipsis of 'if the shoe fits.' My fingernails bit into my palms and with a gnarly force of will I kept my knees locked against each other and stiff. In no form was I going to step back, a rage now settled in my stomach and the acid seemed to boil within it. I couldn't muster enough to bring it to the surface. I remained, quiet and reeling, already exhausted from the small exchange.

"Is that what you think this is?" I asked quietly with my molars glued together. "Just some elaborate plan to get myself killed?"

"I understand the responsibility of command and how heavy it can be," he murmured, his brow lowered over his eyes, "I also know that if you let it smother you, it _will_ kill you. The Inquisition cannot afford to lose you, not when so much hope is dependent on you." Ash exploded in my throat, my tongue and teeth painfully dry as disbelief washed over me. _You can't just shut down, Jaime, what about work? What about school? What about -_ constant reminders of guilt that anything else than _normal_ was _selfish_.

"I can say something incredibly cliché and tell you that you don't know a _fucking_ thing about me." I rumbled with hands tightly fisted in my pockets. I wanted to slap him. It was such a childish, dramatic desire, but damn he had peeled my skin right off my bone. "Sometimes people get tired, Warden, and some of us can't just stop to take a break, we can't just _relax,_ we can't just close our eyes and mediate and reflect and whatever other bullshit self-help mantra you want to think up."

The Warden blinked and stepped back, surprised by my low thundering emotion.

"Sometimes," I choked and felt my toes curl within my boots, "we're just _tired_ and it takes so much effort just _recognizing_ that we're tired, or that something hurts, or whatever the fuck, and trying to _deal_ with it is just as hard." Fuck me, I could feel tears at the corners of my eyes. A hard blink and my vision watered, blurring the Warden's face, but at least I could feel nothing fall down my cheeks.

"Herald," he breathed and reached out to take my shoulder. Now I was going to be childish, I finally took a step back and yanked my shoulder away before he could place his hand on it. We stared at each other and I could see the faint smoke of pity glaze his eyes. Like a coin flip, my stomach flopped from wretched sadness to a metallic tang of anger.

" _Jaime_ ," I spat. "I'm fucking twenty six years old with no family, no friends, and no one that gives a damn about me beyond being the fucking _Herald_." My left hand flew out of my pocket and the Mark was already a silently hissing and sputtering in my palm. "I'm trying to give you what I can, damn it, and that's sealing the Breach, I _get it_ , but for fuck's sake don't get pissed at me when I just want to blankly go through the motions and get through another day!"

"Jaime." He tried, softer than before, his face pale with fright. "Look, I understand, trust me, _I do_. I know what it's like to be looked to for answers and not have them, but just going through the routine - there's nothing routine about fighting demons or closing up the Fade, you shouldn't just let yourself fall into that."

"It's what I have." I exhaled roughly with a glare. "I can't just sit back when there's people waiting to be saved, soldiers spared, camps cleared, I can't just tag someone else and tell them good luck, safe trip - this isn't leadership, Warden. A commander can cease fire, can pull back and reform, but _I can't._ The rifts never stop coming, the demons never stop appearing - and all I have to get me through the day is _'one more, just one more fight, one more demon down_ ' and I -"

I was getting too fucking emotional. Far more than I wanted to, gods be damned, wasn't he supposed to be the easiest of the lot to talk to about this? The Mark blinded me for a moment as I wiped at my face. There was no trace of tears, for which I was thankful for, but it already felt like I had cried a river. There was a crunch of snow to my left and I nearly jumped through my bones as a warm hand landed on the small of my back. I looked over, saw nothing, and immediately looked down.

"C'mon, sweetheart." Varric ignored the Warden and smiled softly for me. "I think you've done enough 'resting' for now. C'mon." He tugged at my hand as it floated down by my side and lamely, I followed him. Blackwall made a move to come a step closer and Varric swiftly held up a finger, his thumb a trigger over his pointed finger, a clear warning shot.

Blackwall stayed, distraught by our frayed conversation.

Shamefully, I took my salvation in Varric's foot steps.


	23. ACT I: Nothing's Impossible

**Running On Empty:** _Nothing's Impossible To He Who Tries_

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 **Note:** _Hello everyone! Still job hunting. Thanks for your patience and the influx of reviews and tips. Once again, this work is COMPLETELY unbeta'ed and any mistakes are my own. This work is also written mostly for fun and completely in my own free time, so if you spot any inconsistencies, PLEASE let me know. Sometimes even my notes aren't enough to remember what Jaime's done. Hope everyone enjoys this next chapter, largely filler and fuzzy, but a nice break from all the chaos._

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Varric had me bundled up near his tent and campfire with a mug of who-the-fuck-knows-what in my hands. The aroma was painfully sharp and peppered the inside of my nostrils like mace. One tentative sip told me to drink carefully, as the fluid had slithered down my throat like poison and scorched everything in its path. If I hadn't known better, I would have most definitely mistaken it for poison.

The dwarf was finishing up the last of his business. Another runner from Orzammar had returned with another small shipment of lyrium for our collection of mages and Templars, but the supply was running thin and we would be out by month's end, if I overheard correctly. _Just another thing to fuck up on, where am I supposed to get lyrium without pissing off the Chantry?_ We needed allies, enough to warrant the need of such a high demand without scaring merchants.

Varric's shadowed crept over the toes of my boots and I looked up from my place on the log. He sighed and rubbed at the back of his head before taking the seat next to me. Hesitantly, I leaned against his arm and relief flooded my stomach as he leaned back into my weight. I wanted to vomit, I was so happy to have the connection.

"You wanna talk about what happened with you and the Warden there?" Varric offered. He waved off another courier and pointed them up to the church of Haven. It would seem I had earned the dwarf's full attention for the time being. More hesitation curdled the walls of my stomach, the warm drink of what-have-you doing nothing to settle it.

"I don't know what happened." I replied quietly, honesty colored my words. My gaze was glued to my mug, the tips of my thumbs played over the lip of it. "I wanted to talk to him about... something personal, and I think he kinda just rushed me."

Varric's brow rose, but he said nothing. People continued to mull around us, jumping from one place to another, trading their wares and supplies to better the forces of the Inquisition. Superficially, it appeared as everything was working, every cog in place and pulling its gear, but damn did I feel like the wrench in the whole operation.

"I think I derailed the conversation." I murmured, my thumbs petting my mug absently. "I wanted to explain something personal, but not _that_ kind of personal. I know I have cracks, doesn't mean I want someone seein' 'em."

"Bit late for that, I think." Varric kept his voice low and his gaze turned to the fire in front of us. He leaned forward and dropped a log onto it, shifting it with his foot for a moment. "From what we've heard of the Fallow Mire, it was... pretty dire."

"I had to get through it quick." My words rushed past my tongue. "Once I realized there was a plague, time was -"

"Shh, hey, hey. I'm on your side, remember?" Varric smiled and his hand came to rest at the small of my back and rubbed horizontally along my spine. My muscles betrayed me and slumped slightly into the touch. He chuckled and continued, nodding his head for me to reply.

"Yeah, I know. It's just bad. I guess. Fuck." A heel of my palm rubbed at my eye and I balanced my mug on a knee. "I guess from his point of view, okay yeah, I was probably looking pretty fucking nuts just running headfirst pillar after pillar, but... I don't know, I wasn't looking to die."

Varric blinked and pulled back momentarily. "Well, I don't remember hearing that part."

I winced. "Blackwall thinks I was on a suicidal run, trying to 'divest' myself of the responsibility of being Herald. Like." A snort escaped me and my gaze let a glare flicker between Varric and my mug, my voice tight. "I'm not the most stable person in the world, I get that, and I'm not the best at being Herald, but... I'm not gonna up and fucking leave you all with no Mark."

There was a heavy pause between us, but it felt far from awkward. Varric was a quick study, though he took his time chewing through the details of a story to better understand theme and plot. He was no Iron Bull when it came to being covert or trained in the art of deceptions, but he was just as good at analyzing people as the Qunari.

"He has a bit of a point." Varric replied softly, hand still on my back. "You've gone non-stop for a while. Some of us are just a bit afraid of losing you. I think that's fair, that we're worried." Icy guilt flooded my lungs and an inhale shuddered through me. Of course they were allowed to feel worried, but I had no way to cope with _their_ stress and my own. I couldn't stop or slow down, because then it would give me time to think.

To remember.

"That's fair," I agreed lamely, "I just... wish he wasn't so aggressive about it."

"Well..." Varric started, and then ended with a wince. "Well, no. Never mind. I was going to say Cassandra was the same, but she cared more about you doing the _job_ rather than the job killing you. I don't... think it ever occurred to us that you _could_ die." There was a silence that blanketed us after that statement and for a moment, we paused, suspended in the reality that we had forgotten that I was mortal.

"Holy shit," I groused with the heel of my right hand rubbing my eyes, " _now_ I get it."

"You know, it's hard, sometimes." Varric muttered with a sour glance across at me. "It's hard remembering that you're just a girl, just snatched up from her bassinet and thrown into chaos. You... you just end up doing these fucking weird, _impossible_ things and we... we forget. I'm sorry we forget." Varric's expression crumbled under his realization and I placed my mug down between my heels to hug him. My arms wrapped around his head and his arm around my back tightened. We stayed close and I could feel him shake.

"It's okay, buddy." I found myself comforting him for once. This was something I could do. It was so easy to set aside my own fears and anxieties when I had someone else to focus on, someone else that needed to be held up. My Mark was a reminder of the power I potentially possessed, but it also served as a curse to make those around me forget that I was inescapably _mortal_.

 _Blackwall didn't forget, and he worries._

 _Bull can't reconcile my mortality and fallibility with the Mark._

 _Damn it._

"Varric." I murmured in between our hug. "I've got a lot to tell you." The dwarf slowly pulled away from my arms and caught my glance. With a heavy frown of my brow and a flicker of my gaze to the people that flowed around us, I stood and retrieved my mug from between my heels. Wordlessly and worried, Varric followed my lead as I trudged back toward my little cabin beyond the thoroughfare of Haven's center of operations.

We slid through the door and with it shut behind us, the cloak I wore was tugged off my shoulders and set on the stand over my armor pieces. Varric wandered over to the fireplace and sat with a long-suffering sigh. Guilt slithered up my throat; he had so much to worry about already, keeping his people safe and helping the Inquisition with their supplies. Hesitantly, my feet took long drags toward the bed and I sat to face him.

"What was it that you have to tell me? Is this some sort of secret rest of 'em can't know?" He joked weakly with a palm to brush his forehead.

I winced. "The main heads know, as does Cassandra and Solas. You... weren't there when I awoke, so the story never got told." On a second thought, nervous now that I could spill the secrets of my world to the open, I hustled over to the windows of my cabin and shut them tight with their locks folded over. If we managed to keep our voices low and Varric didn't completely and utterly disown me by the end of it, then we wouldn't have an issue.

Hopefully.

Varric's gaze had followed me. "What do you mean? I think I know the story pretty well, it's a bit hard trying to hide what you are."

"You heard the safe, edited version of the story." I answered once I turned back to him. Slowly I wandered back to the bed, but lingered at his side before reaching the edge of the bed. My gaze was glued to the fire, but I could feel the scrutiny of his on my face.

"There's a raw version to this story?" He asked quietly, mindful now that the shutting of the windows meant something. His shoulders tensed under his coat and my fingers wound together as my nerves fired with hot anxiety.

"Isn't there always?" My words escaped meekly. Finally my ass found the bed and I sat with my legs hooked together at the ankle and my arms tightly bound around my chest. A few swallows and my voice returned but my gaze remained unfocused on the fire before us. "I just ask that you give me a chance to finish before you give an opinion, yeah?"

"Yeah," he breathed with a furrowed, wary brow.

"I feel like a damn broken record today," I muttered and rubbed my elbow, "Most of what you heard is half true. My name isn't Welton, it's Wyatt. I _am_ twenty-six, but I'm not an orphan. I'm the middle child of three, with a mother and a father. Two brothers. All that good stuff." My gaze flickered between the fireplace and Varric's face, but the dwarf's expression had not changed from the wary frown of before.

His hand gestured for me to continue.

"I wasn't... born in Thedas. O-or anywhere here. On this planet. When... before I woke up in the jail cell here, I was actually somewhere else. I was home, back in _my_ world. If it would make any sense to you, I'd tell you I was a computer geek, but that's a bit out of blue field." Another glance and Varric's face had morphed from wariness to a sudden exhaustion and he turned his gaze away from me, his hand slowly came up to his face and held his forehead.

Again, his hand gestured for me to continue.

"I-I couldn't tell you how I got _here_ , b-but Solas and I have some theory that the Fade connected our worlds a-and I was just... wrong place, right time, y'know? I dunno." Once more, I rubbed at my elbow with nothing else to distract me. Varric was being uncharacteristically quiet, even when having asked him to hold his opinion (he was never one to hold back on his opinion).

"I _am_ human," I felt the strike of fear urge me to emphasis the point, least he be like Bull and consider me something else. "I'm still young and foolish and really fucking scared, but... I dunno, this isn't exactly an excuse for my behavior but... yeah." The silence settled on us and my heels gently dragged along the floorboards as I waited. It was a good, few hot minutes before Varric sat straight in the chair with a long, deep inhale.

"Maker's balls," he exhaled and ran a hand down his face, "we never get a break, do we?"

My head tilted, suddenly curious. His voice had been distant, as if talking to someone else who was absent of the room.

"... Varric?" I prompted, worried to where this line of conversation would lead.

"Nothing good ever comes out of the fucking Fade." He grumbled tiredly. He shifted in his seat and turned to me; "My turn to tell you a story, because this... all sounds suspicious now." At his words, my brown took its turn to furrow over my eyes and my feet stopped their mindless motion as I turned my attention to listen. The deeper, hitched tone of his voice made my skin itch with alertness; this wasn't a tall-tale he was going to tell.

"Before all this went to shit, I was back in Kirkwall with Hawke and the others. You know that, you read some of the book." He gestured to the tattered leather bound book on my nightstand. "What's... not in there, is our encounter with a darkspawn by the name of Corypheus, who also claimed to be a product of the Fade's influence." Eyes wide, I leant forward with my arms on my thighs, resting my weight forward. _Could there have been another like me?_

"He was nothing like you," Varric spat, startling my thoughts, "He was this big, ugly, spidery looking asshole with the ego that ran the depth of the Waking Sea. We encountered him because I stupidly led Hawke into the mess after I heard some rumors flying around about some Carta hiding out in the Vimmark Mountains, intent on hunting down Hawke or his sister because someone wanted their blood."

I remained quiet, desperate to retain the information as it was a rare thing Varric told anything seriously.

He sighed, "We sent out a missive to Sunsh - Bethany. His little sister, who was with the Wardens, if you remember that chapter about the Deep Roads?" A quick nod from me to affirm that I did remember reading the misfortunate circumstance that had nearly killed Hawke's sister as they attempted to escape the underground passage. "Right, she meet us at the edge of the Vimmark Mountains, along with Hawke, myself, and Anders. It just went to shit from there."

"What happened?" I prompted after his breather.

"We were ambushed, first fucking thing." Varric groused. "Caught in the wastelands of Vimmark, distracted by a Carta messenger. They had a fucking bronto." I had no clue as to what a _bronto_ was, but it sounded nasty, a faint recollection of the word _bruto_ from Spanish, to mean _a brute_ ( and I was only aware of the word because my Spanish professor used it constantly).

I shuddered to think of whatever the creature could be.

"Anyway, we manage to make our way through the wasteland and into the fortress, flinging Carta left and right as it was Hawke's pastime, and we find their hideout. Bronto and Carta bastards everywhere. Hawke and Sunshine make work of them like blowing out candles... I forgot how devastating Sunshine's magic could be, and to see it honed by her training in the Wardens... she was almost a different person."

Varric drifted into his memories for a moment and I was loathed to drag him back. I couldn't tell if the memory was a good one, but from what I had read of Bethany before Hawke had nearly lost her in the Deep Roads, she had been literal Sunshine in Varric's eyes; happy, optimistic, joyful, and teasing. Despite her magic and the need for hiding, she never lost her shine. A glance at his softened expression and my heart broken for my brotherly dwarf.

"We ended up going depths deep," he murmured with another shift in his seat, "Found a few items and we took our happy asses deeper. We found Gerav in the mines." He paused and his eyebrows stiffened over his eyes and wrinkled his forehead.

"Gerav?" I tugged tentatively at the storyline again. My thighs were numb from my weight and I shifted back to relieve them. My moment of story-time had morphed into a history lesson who's weight seemed to smother the room. I wondered what it had to do with me, but I would be patient; Varric was a storyteller through and through.

"An... old friend of mine." Varric answered softly. "He left, was doing work or some shit and it got a bit too much for him. No fucking wonder, the Carta leader Rhatigan gave us a run for our sovereigns. Said he would bring Hawke's blood to Corypheus and free him, since it was Hawke's father Malcolm that started this. Hawke and Sunshine brought the fight to an end quickly... and on Rhatigan we found a glowing dagger." The pause was a dangerous one, a memory that struggled against being told. He flashed me a worried look and I forced my eyes wide to portray innocence. I don't know what he feared from me, but it was there.

"Hawke picked it up and I should have stopped him. The thing just - it looked like it electrocuted him, straight through." Varric gripped the armrests of the chair, lips pursed momentarily over his teeth. "It was an enchantment, according to Sunshine. Triggered because of their blood, something their father left behind."

"That's a bit dark." I murmured. I hadn't read much of the Hawke family line, and I only knew of the siblings because Varric never wasted an opportunity to talk about his best friend. Their adventures had been a source of entertainment and joy for me, even with the destructive ending of Kirkwall, simply because Varric breathed so much life into his storytelling.

"It gets worse." Varric shook his head. "As we went on, we found demons - they were imprisoned, sure, but still dangerous. Hawke... released the first demon, we got echoes of Malcolm's memory and it... wasn't good. As we opened the cells and destroyed the demons, we found out that Malcolm only assisted with the whole damn thing so that Leandra could escape with their firstborn."

"Hawke." I breathed with a stuttering heart in my chest. I was bolted to that bed and the world could have shattered around me for all that I cared, the story woven through Varric's emotional retelling gripped me. A small blimp of sadness unfurled under my lungs for the family, forced into a desperate situation because of the magic that Malcolm harbored. Leliana's sharp eyes flashed through my thoughts as her voice echoed; _there are mages better than I, and yet I am free?_

Varric's gaze rested on me for a moment. "Yeah. Prologue to my book that started with them in Lothering, huh? Heh. In any case, as we continued, we found a man by the name of Larius and we found out that he was a wandering Grey Warden, practically trapped within this decrepit spawn pit we were in. Larius is the one that asked Hawke's father to help with the ritual that sealed Corypheus away." I frowned, thoughts tumbling over themselves as the story continued. Varric had made it sound as if Corypheus had been similar to me, but perhaps it was our connection to the Fade that tethered us.

"We had our first affirmation that what Larius said about the darkspawn Corypheus was true as we went deeper; because Anders turned on us." Varric rubbed his palms together with a shake of his head. "The Calling, as the Wardens named it, got a bit too strong for him what with being a runaway Warden himself, and Justice appeared. Struck him down fast, but we knew we were in deep shit because of it. A darkspawn powerful enough to make a Warden heel? Only the archdemon does that."

 _Anders._ I remembered that particular name, he had been a previous friend to Hawke and ultimately led to the destruction of the Kirkwall Chantry.

"Larius found us again, warned us not to release Corypheus." Varric scratched at his chin and cleared his throat, the storytelling seemed to exhaust him, the revisited emotions eating away at the memory. "Another Warden had followed us, Janeka. She wanted to use Corypheus to tame the darkspawn or some shit. Hawke shot her down without a second look. Didn't end well for her, didn't help that she told Hawke about how Larius forced Malcolm to use blood magic for the seals; hence the need for the Hawke siblings."

"It didn't make him turn on Larius?" I asked tentatively, knowing that blood magic was frowned upon throughout most of Thedas.

Varric shook his head. "No, because by then, we had already heard most of Malcolm's memories... _My magic will serve that which is best in me, not that which is most base._ He had drilled that into Sunshine's head, and the siblings never forgot it. Regardless of what magic Malcolm had used, Hawke didn't believe for a second that it tainted his father."

My Mark fluttered with a sharp heat in my palm and in surprise, my hand jerked away from the bed. Varric spared me a glance, startled by my abrupt jolt, but I waved him off. My glare focused on my hand for a moment as I wondered what had triggered it. There were no rifts or demons in Haven, as far as I knew.

"Anyway," he breathed, concerned by my Mark, "Larius and Hawke brought down Janeka and her other Wardens... this is what makes me suspicious, because... Larius told us the only way to stop this chaos of the calling and corruption is to destroy Corypheus, but when we get to him..." My left hand remains clenched in my lap and my gaze steady on Varric as he inhales to smother a shudder.

"We find out he was a magister of Tevinter," Varric releases his exhale, "that he and some others were the first to enter the Golden City and if you've listened to Josephine's teachings -"

"They were the first darkspawn, holy motherfucker." My inhale shot through my throat and lungs, my exhale a gasp. "There's no fucking way, is there? H-how - how the fuck could he prove that?"

"He was the first intelligent darkspawn I've ever come across." Varric muttered darkly. "Anders also realized that he had asked for an acolyte of _Dumat_ , an Old God that had become the first archdemon." The skin along my neck and arms flushed cold and stiff at the thought of such a creature existing. Though I was not religious myself, to have sudden proof that _heaven_ could exist and it was corrupted into hell?

I shuddered.

"Yeah," Varric sighed, "he continued to ramble and called out to his god asking for guidance, but it was just shit. Starting talking about how they were told to get to the Golden City and how they just - just walked through the Fade. The Maker tossed them out as His City went black and thus, the first darkspawn was created."

"Does Leliana know?" I asked immediately, my molars ground together at the back of my mouth. Varric gave me a half-hearted, nonchalant shrug.

"I would assume she does, though I never told her the full story." Varric glanced at me, the wariness back in his eyes. "But you see why... look, I'm not suspicious of you, sweetheart, but the fact that you _actually_ came through the Fade... from another world..." He struggled at the end to find his words and I sighed, the heels of my palms coming up to my eyes and pressing into them roughly.

"I know, the _implications_. I've had this same talk with Bull." I muttered.

Varric snorted softly. "He's not wrong. We... the Chantry can't know, _ever_. Last thing we need is you labeled a demon, or another Corypheus. Maker's balls, they could even go so far as to blame you as the next Blight because of it, no matter how many rifts you close or demons you kill." Each passing word seem to settle on his shoulders and weighed him heavily. He rolled his head over his neck and then gently shook it.

"What a mess..." He exhaled stiffly. "I'll... see about getting in touch with Hawke. Corypheus is dead, thank the Maker for that, but... he might have someone who can help us with this." A hard blink cleared my eyes as my hands fell into my lap; _help? Help with what?_ What could his old friend do for me that no one else was capable of?

"What do you mean?" My question was gentle, frightened.

Varric turned to me and smiled sadly. "Sweetheart, for as much as I'm sure you love that elf, he doesn't have all the answers. We need to see if we can get you _home_." A low thud echoed within my organs as my heart dropped to my lap, my eyes watering at the mere _thought_ of going back home. A smile forced its way onto my face.

"I _can't_ ," came the choked reply, "that's impossible..."

"Jaime." Varric stated my name matter-of-factly as he stood and walked over to me. "I have seen... some _weird_ shit this side of the Free Marches. Demons, Qunari, rips in the Fade, and now a girl that dropped through the Veil into our troubles." His gloved hands came up and held my face, thumbs running along my cheekbones and clearing away the tears that slipped away. He offered me a warm, weak smile.

"I once knew an elf that sold her soul for a mirror that could show her the past, and I faced down a magister who claimed to have seen the Golden City turn black." The muscles along his jaw jumped as he swallowed and one hand left my face to brush away wisps of hair. "I saw a Champion take down an impossible Qunari foe, and I've watched a girl shoulder the burden of salvation for a world that isn't hers. I think we can try for the impossible, no?"

The tears were renewed and without a thought, I threw myself into a hug, holding him close.

 _Let's try for the impossible._


	24. ACT I: Cheaters Never Prosper

**Running On Empty:** _Cheaters Never Prosper_

* * *

 _ **Note:**_ _Holy hell, I finally got a job! Woo! Also, thanks to all who point out Jaime's little weird quirks with snorting and hiccuping. In reality, my friend does exactly that and I find it hilarious now to realize it. Is that what we call a tick? Anyway, I also took note of all the suggestions for snippets from other characters. Those will be written up and probably posted before the next arc is. Hold on to your patience, we're almost there!_

 _PS: I cannot love you all enough for all the support, thank you for continuously returning!_

* * *

"I'm sorry it took so long to get the crest, Herald." Requisitions Officer Jenal was drenched from head to foot from the sudden storm that had broken out over our heads as my group and I arrived back on the Storm Coast. The leather of her vest was muddy and her trousers were hiked up with extra belts to combat the weight of the rain water. The tents looked years older since the last time I had been here and I made a mental note to make sure they were resupplied with new ones. Weather was never anyone's friend.

My attention focused on Jenal's face, her mouth tired and wary. "It's alright, we can make amends now. Do you have the crest?"

She handed it to me with a shaking hand, the cold of the storm probably seeped into her bones. The afternoon sun was all but gone as the thunderclouds growled overhead. It was a simple crest, the green serpentstone was centered in polished copper and the necklace threaded with deepstalker hide under the metal. The stone looked cracked along the edges from the jeweler's careful attempt to stamp the word 'Mercy' along the width of the stone.

"It'll do, Officer Jenal. Thank you for holding onto it for us." Solas bowed his head lightly and the woman's shoulders slumped with relief. Subtly chastised for my oversight in manners, I also rewarded her with a small nod and smile. Tentatively, I brought the necklace over my head and secured it at the front of my leathers.

"Think that's safe?" Varric asked as we started our trek over the slippery slope of the coast.

"It's the best place for it," I answered with a shrug, "maybe this way the Blades won't attack on sight, and besides, the necklace is long enough that they can't really choke me with it."

"They would have to get pretty damn close to try." Bull rumbled warningly behind me.

He gave me such a strange sense of peace, even with all the turbulence between us. We continued, my haggard group of companions keeping a perimeter around me as we trudged through the muddy rocks and slick slopes along the cliffs' edges. These three in particular had volunteered to come and I hadn't the heart to turn them away. It was an odd understanding that had settled over us, now that every party member knew my backstory. It was liberating, one could say.

"So boss," Bull started.

 _Liberating for their line of questioning, too._

"Yessir." I answered. Solas was attempting to help me over a rocky patch of ground and up to the lip of a low-hanging cliff (me and my fucking shortcuts), his hands held out to help me reach the edge. His attempt was a poor one, mostly because Varric was no help, pushing me from behind to keep going.

"In your other world, what's it like?" Bull posed the question with an open-ended tilt. Solas and Varric shared a look, one that they quickly shot my way with curiosity. My hands gripped a root and with it I hauled myself up onto the ledge and watched as my boys easily scaled the slanted slope as if it were dry. Fucking assholes.

"That's a bit of a broad question, eh? Narrow it down, what do you want to know, specifically?" My gaze narrowed on The Bull as he secured his feet on new land and shadowed me for a bit as we walked. The ground flattened out to a slim road and the party was quick to steer me towards it lest I lead them further into any more dangerous off-roading.

"Language." Bull narrowed his question. "You were able to tell the difference between the enunciation of a similar word and compare it. How?" Solas' head nearly swiveled clear off his neck at Bull's question, either surprised by the wording of the question itself, or the fact that I had shared such information with an outsider.

"It was mostly Varric's fault." I replied, ignoring the dwarf's snort. The path dipped down for a moment and then heaved back up, surrounded on either side by broken blocks of stone and a few posts. We were close to where we had originally found the book and note about the Blades of Hessarian and I passed by it with a surveying glance. _Empty and abandoned. Hopefully._

Bull gave me a side-eye at my short answer.

"Varric used to read to me, way back when." I elaborated with only a _little_ squeak. "Like I told you before, I could understand someone when they spoke to me, but I couldn't read. Their symbols look like scribbles or weird sharp lines to me, nothing comprehensive." Varric's attention focused on me, I could practically see his ear perk at the new information. Solas continued to lead, seemingly already aware of my condition.

"Being read to allowed you to deduce what a word was, because you read along?" Bull prodded lightly, his curiosity innocent.

"Well, in a way. So it's a bit like code, or... shit." I rubbed at my opposite shoulder, realizing now that I was going to delve into territory not quite common in Thedas. "You have something like it here, I'm sure. You translate words into numbers or something, make equations, and thus new words. I was able to have Varric give me a simple word like _dog_ , have him pronounce each symbol, and then I matched it with letters _I_ knew."

"Reading comprehension." Solas nodded. "Same as you would teach a child, it is only as someone grows older, a new language is harder to learn."

"Well, she only struggled for a little bit, but now it makes sense." Varric added with a stroke of his chin. "I used to watch her scribble away on paper and draw lines between our letters and her scratch-marks." Heat flooded my face at his two-cents added to the conversation. I hadn't guessed what the perspective might have seemed like while I was attempting to learn.

"It was how I could learn," I pouted, embarrassed. "Once I stopped thinking about the symbols as letters and assumed they were numbers, it was easier to understand them."

"That actually sounds a lot more complicated than it should have been." Bull chuckled overhead. I turned my pout to him and he shrugged, unrepentant. "Honest, Boss. Converting letters, to numbers, back into letters? Why not just match a word to a word you understood?"

I shook my head, "No, see, it doesn't work that way, though. Say like, when I spell the word _dog_ in your tongue, it's D-G-O, it's spelled differently than my wording, which spells it D-O-G. I knew what the word _meant,_ but I couldn't read it because it didn't make sense in my head. The _pronunciation_ sounds the same, the _pattern_ is not." Solas paused in front of us and then turned on a heel to look at me with a critical eye. My feet brought me to a stop next to him, our companions slowed and glanced between us.

"What?" I asked, confused at his impromptu hyper focus.

"It's - nothing. A thought occurred to me, but, the idea seems impossible the more I think on it." Solas replied, perturbed at his own graceless answer.

"Can't be too impossible," Bull chuckled, "as long as she exists, I say there's a lot that's possible."

"Indeed." Solas snapped out of his distant thought and picked up his heels to keep the lead. "I merely pondered the idea that perhaps during her brief stint in the Fade as she was transported to us, something may have afflicted her mind."

"I'm not crazy." I immediately retorted. Solas' ears twitched at my words and his staff slipped a bit from the ground as he walked.

"That's not what I meant, forgive me. I only mean to say, as your world functions on a different language and grammatical system than ours, the Mark may have muddled the final transition." Solas murmured, more to himself than to those of us who followed him. Varric's gaze shot sharply to the elf and Bull's head lowered, face blank.

It took me a moment to catch up, "... you mean, how I can hear spirits and demons, because of my connection with the Mark... you think... something is using it to hinder me?"

"Holy shit, we don't need that. Are you serious?" Varric directed the last of his question to Solas. The elf hesitated, his ears gave another twitch as the thoughts whirled in his head. He glanced back at me and the entirety of my soul plummeted to my feet, bringing me to another full stop at the center of our group. Solas and Varric paused to give a turn and look at me, Bull took a full step and was nearly pressed up to my back.

"That little theory we had, about the Mark being a small rift... That's what you mean, right? About something trying to mess me up?" My gaze honed on his face and the elf had the smallest of moments to himself, thoughtful. He tilted his head as he considered me and the question I posed.

"It's... a theory. The Mark is... a form of magic unknown to us, and we must consider all ramifications." Solas stated softly, both hands on his staff with his weight gently pressed against it. "I had considered that you are acting as a beacon and that is why you can see and hear the demons as they come through... as well as the reason _why_ the rifts are more frequent in their eruptions while you are around."

"She's the trigger." Bull grumbled from behind me. My shoulders hunched instinctively and I took a step sideways to catch Bull in my line of sight.

"Some form of a trigger, yes." Solas nodded with a frown. "I would allegorize her more as a net being dragged. She doesn't trigger the rifts into opening as one would lock or unlock a door, but the Mark may be an accumulating enough power near weaker parts of the Veil to tear them open as she passes."

I blinked. "I'm a black hole?"

"A what?" All three men glanced at me, confused.

Varric coughed. "Not sure how a pit equates to a fishing net, sweetheart."

"No, not - not like that." I huffed, my hand a sharp wave to cut the line of conversation. "Black holes are a section of space, _outer space,_ that right up there, that has a gravitational field forceful enough to drag all matter and energy into its center. Nothing escapes, so when you look at it, it looks like a black hole in between the stars."

All three stared at me wide-eyed and it was seconds before Varric broke into laughter. Heat flushed my face and flooded my ears. My explanation had felt adequate enough to give them a rough understanding of what it was, and how it compared to Solas' explanation. Bull rubbed the back of his neck and together with Solas; they shared a look up at the sky.

"How curious." Solas murmured to the heavens above us.

"Maker, if the dwarves back home ever hear about that, they'll _never_ come up to the surface again." Varric wheezed, his laughter subsiding. My embarrassment slowly fluttered away and left my stomach in peace. My feet scuffed a rock lightly as I waited for them to refocus.

"I suppose that is a good analogy. A black hole, as you say, with enough force to pull everything inward. Yes, I would say that is very much what I believe the Mark to be." Solas glanced at my hand before his gaze came back up to my face. His staff clicked on the stones below it and he turned back around to continue our march toward the Blades' stronghold.

"Well, hold up." Varric followed as Bull and I quietly came up from the rear. "Does that mean that Mark is going to eventually pull her in, too?" The fingers of my left hand clenched tightly and I ignored Bull's curious sideways glance in my direction. Solas was quiet for a good number of paces before his voice floated back to me softly.

"I don't know."

-0-

Calm I was not and I had taken to keeping my place in the bushes for far longer than was necessary.

"The book said that with the Mercy Crest, she could just walk in there, and they wouldn't attack, right?" Varric groused from my right shoulder. He stood on the boulder I had taken for seating and peered over my head at the large and wooden gate that barred us from the Blades of Hessarian stronghold. Solas and Bull stood side by side a little further off and wore matching frowns of critical assessment. From what we could see, there were only two guards at the front gate, and not much commotion inside to give a hint as to their numbers behind the walls.

"It did say as much, but would we trust them to hold their word when they've already attacked our people?" Solas murmured and spared a glance at Bull.

The Qunari's nose flared. "It had a passage in there that there could only be one challenger at a time, and I don't like that wording at all."

"Fuck no," Varric huffed, "because that means she's fighting their leader alone, and that's not the plan."

"What if it's our only plan?" I interrupted the discussion over my head. "We don't even know what their leader looks like, maybe he can be reasoned with?" The three sharp looks of ' _seriously_ ' promptly informed me that _no_ , such a thing was not to be expected. I stood from my seat and brushed at my leather and breeches.

"Let's see if they'll let us follow her in." Bull relented upon noticing my movement. I spared him a shrug. There was nothing we could do aside from retreat or move forward, and I wasn't going to retreat; that meant I would allow these bandits to do as they pleased along the coast. Not happening, not anymore. The Iron Bull sighed heavily and adjusted his maul across his back to loosen it for a fight without actually removing it from its holster.

Solas and Varric steadied themselves and allowed me to walk before them toward the gate.

A swallow worked a hard path down my throat as I approached. Nervously, my hand came up and adjusted the crest to allow a glint of sunlight to flash off the surface. I held a small hope that the crest would grant me a bit more in the way of negotiations and it wouldn't have to come down to a fight. The guards at the gate spied me upon my slow descent toward their stronghold and took up arms. One of them spotted the crest and immediately her weapon arm went limp.

"A challenger?" The male murmured once I was within earshot.

"All the others are dead." The woman on my other side replied. She glanced me over, gaze curious but her mouth silent. She and her companion moved to the wooden door and knocked hard. A latch unhooked from the other side and a shake started down my spine as the massive door was hauled open. I couldn't lose my nerve now and kept my eyes forward to avoid catching a glimpse of my worried companions. Bull's steps hit the ground with more weight than usual, announcing his presence in a way I couldn't announce mine.

We were surrounded on either side, handfuls of armored fellows that stared as I made my way along the planks of wood to the center piece of the stronghold. A tall man, blond and with a scarred and smirking face. Marbari snarled on either side of his makeshift throne, caged in massive ironwork that reached nearly to the top of the stronghold wood pillar fence. Slowly my spine unfurled and it took everything in me to take steady, measured steps. The man before me took a moment to eye my figure and his smirk widened.

"Here to challenge me, are you?" He snarled with a laugh. It was on the tip of my tongue, _we don't have to fight_ , but the look of his face and the hand on his sword, I knew those words would win me nothing. This was a man who took wholesale slaughter against innocent people and stole from my men, drowned them, forced them into needless danger. My spine petrified and the stone forced me to stand taller, my shoulders lowered, the Mark flared briefly by my left hip.

I didn't miss the small, startled glance at my hand from the Hessarian leader.

"I represent the Inquisition." I commanded with more confidence than I truthfully harbored. "You slaughtered my men and stole from their dead bodies."

A grin flashed under the man's beard. "You want justice? Come and claim it!"

The bastard was _fast_. With only a half of a second to spare, the majority of my maul was freed from its holster, the full handle before the head shielded me as the sword came down viciously in a one-handed swing that he brought down over his head. It clanged off my weapon. My braced foot kept me upright as the man stepped forward and brought down another swing. Unfortunately I failed to notice the dagger in his other hand and caught it in the leather of my hip. No damage, but he pissed me right the fuck off.

He smacked away my maul with his sword arm but I was gunning for something much different. My weapon arm was feeble without the support of my other hand, but that was let loose and the maul's head hit the ground as my freed hand took a fist to slam right up into his nose. I could hear Bull's laughter boom behind me and it spurred me into taking a few swifts steps to the man's left side where his blade hung and I brought my maul up from the ground with an unsteady arm swing.

The leader was still faster than I was, despite the stunning fist to his face. He glanced his blade off the maul head and whirled it over his head (still with one fucking hand that goddamn monster) and brought it down again. My maul was not made as a defensive weapon, so I took a healthy leap back and allowed the momentum to swing the maul over my head for a gravitational blow right back down the front. He glanced it off his sword, sweat started to cover both our foreheads. He grinned at me and took a few hasty steps back before he reached behind him on his wooden throne and yanked on a chain.

One of the Mabari hounds yowled excitedly and bolted from the cage. Behind me, Varric and Bull hollered in protest to the addition of the dogs. I moved further away with a few steps and turned a full circle on a heel to catch one of the hounds as it charged at me. The Hessarian leader laughed and followed the charge of his animal toward me, the second Mabari hot on his heels. Him alone I could handle, but batting away the dogs from my heels was not an ordeal I wanted. Varric, my savior, solved that issue.

With the addition of the dogs, the rules of engagement had been changed. It was no longer single challengers and my dwarf had no qualms in breaking ranks. An arrow whistled from Bianca and caught the thick flank of the closest Mabari. The dog howled in pain and bared its teeth at Varric. Bull's shadow shot past me toward the second animal, the leader had cleared the path upon realization that he had a three-hundred pound Qunari bolting toward him. Another arrow sang past me and the Mabari that interrupted me went down with a shattered skull. Enraged at the fucking cheating tactic (this was probably why the other challengers had lost), I sprinted with two strong pushes of my heels and used my maul like a battering ram, right into his gut.

The leader doubled over and with a hurried heave, I brought my maul up swiftly to clip him under the chin. The shattered jaw rattled through my weapon into my grip, the leader's head whipped back with a snap and with an exhale, I leaned back on a leg and took a sweep of my other foot to trip him back. He tumbled to the ground, he gasped with a bloodied nose and mouth, half his teeth missing, eyes wide as he pleaded breathlessly.

My maul came down into his chest, his breath shuddered out and the body went limp under the head of my maul.

The world went silent around my ears. Blood rushed through my eardrums and my skin felt scorched, sweat beading down my neck. Finally, my lungs exhaled, my spine shaking as my exertion caught up with me, the adrenaline flushing itself from my body. Bull's shadow came up beside me and his hand with missing fingers reached for the handle of my maul and together (more his strength than mine) my maul was drawn out from the concave chest of my opponent. There was a sickening sucking sound as the skin slipped away and bones dropped slightly with the absence of support. I dropped the head of my maul to the ground and leaned against the pommel of it, my forehead pressed on the hand that held it upright.

"What do you want?" Bull rumbled threateningly to something behind me, he took a step to cover my back. I had taken no physical blow during the fight, but Solas' hand still touched between my shoulder blades as he came up beside me and a rejuvenation spell kissed my nerves and steadied my body. A sigh of relief escaped me and once strengthened, I stood with a straight back and turned to look at whoever had been stupid enough to approach my mildly displeased Qunari. It was one of the bandits, or a Blade, and he waited patiently just out of arm's reach of Bull, his gaze focused calmly on me.

"... I take it this means I've won, or are we going to have an issue?" I asked tentatively. The dogs had not been planned for, and I could understand now the anxiousness that slithered just under the surface for my companions; if the Blades decided to attack because we broke the rules of the fight, they were going to have three extremely disgruntled men on their hands.

The Blade shook his head, arms crossed. "No, Your Worship. The Blades of Hessarian are at your service. If you want eyes on the coast, here we are." My companions were still bristling with unease and wariness. Drawn up to my full height and my shoulders pulled back, I took a step around Bull and gently waved to dismiss him. The Qunari shot me a glance and snorted before taking only half a pace step back. It would have to do.

"I haven't heard of the Blades of Hessarian," I murmured, taking came to leave my maul beside me in case of an attack.

"Our work is often misunderstood," the Blade sighed, head dipped slightly, "but we serve Andraste - and whoever proves worth of wielding us."

My eyes narrowed. "So, you and your Blades are loyal to the Inquisition? Just like that?"

"Well." A faint smirk touched his mouth. "We're loyal to _you_. I suppose that's the same thing, Your Worship."

"Uh huh." Something about this agreement felt off, but I did not have Cassandra, Josephine, or Leliana to strip it bare. Asking any one of my companions behind me for opinions would potentially lessen any 'worthiness' I had gained from killing their former boss. Fuck, I wish I had a cheat-sheet. "So... no ill-will over what happened to your former leader?"

"The man was a bastard." The Blade hardly spared the splattered remains a look. "You're not the first to stand up to him. You're just the first to _win,_ and we're happy with that." Bull snorted again behind me, but he shifted onto his good foot and from my peripheral I could see one of his shoulders relax. It was good enough of an assessment for me; we were safe.

"Besides," the Blade brought his gaze back to my face, seconds after, "I would rather swear my life to the Herald of Andraste." There was a beat of silence between us, the bandits that had surrounded us before had lessened, their demeanor mildly assuaged by the change of leadership. I would have to be careful, bandits only ever served that which benefitted them.

"Let's start fixing things up, then." I brought my maul over my shoulder and snapped it into its holster. "I need those eyes on the coast, reports need to be sent to my scouts. Any and all hostilities are to cease and desist. In return, we can offer you supplies and safety. You won't have to resort to banditry from here on."

The Blade assessed me with a tilted head, mouth ticked to one side. "Agreed. I'll have word sent out that the Inquisition soldiers and camps are to be left alone, and any reports we will send along as they are written, Your Worship."

"Good," I sighed, "is there anything I need to be concerned with now? Rifts, demons, or some such?" At my words, a gentle softness of relief passed over his face before he offered me a nod. The Blade relaxed in my presence and that allowed for my companions to step off their own pins and needles.

"Yes, Your Worship. There is have been sightings of demons directly along the Coast, just southwest of here. One of my patrols also reported a handful of them out by an abandoned dock, northwest of here and across a shallow peninsula of land." He ticked off quietly. The soldiers close to us ducked their heads and turned away. I wondered how many they had lost, attempting to take back their land.

"Right, I'll investigate. From now on, if there are any demons in the area, just report it to us, it could be the cause of a rift and those are best dealt with by me." I raised my left hand and the Mark flashed, briefly illuminating the Blade's pale face. He gave me a firm, swift nod and with that, I saluted him lazily and waved my companions to follow.

Once we were outside the gate, Varric glanced up at me. "You doing alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good." We shared a glance. "Why? Did I take a hit somewhere that I don't feel?"

"No." Solas answered from behind, his pace even with Bull's as they followed. "You did... very well. It was impressive how much you have grown." Elation shot through my stomach hard enough that I nearly gagged on it. As quick as I could, I smothered my reflex to vomit with a choked laugh and grinned over my shoulder at him.

"I suppose it was bound to happen." I turned my grin to Varric. "You think Cassandra is gonna be mad?"

"Devastated," the dwarf shook his head mournfully, "she'll be on the practice field with those dumbs for hours, now that you don't need to hold her hand."

"She still can't read." Bull teased from the back.

"Look here," I snapped playfully at him over my shoulder, "I pay you to stand around and look pretty, not throw out slander." It managed to snag a laugh from Varric and a soft, amused snort from Solas. The Qunari flashed me a sharp-toothed grin and any bravado I had was sapped straight from my gut.

"Right." I cleared my throat. "Let's see about cleaning up this mess."


	25. ACT I: Hello From The Other Side

**Running On Empty:** _Hello From The Other Side_

* * *

We had wandered away from the Blades of Hessarian stronghold and made a hard trek toward the northeast section of the coast. I hadn't wanted to venture south just yet, as we had no camps set up along that way, so any sort of danger couldn't be easily resolved with support or troops. It was also preferable that the Inquisition be made aware that the Blades were no longer a threat before introducing the two groups in a shared camp; thus off to the peninsula I went. It had been just past the cave where we had originally found the deepstalkers and spiders the size of Newfoundlands hounds. We carefully picked our way across the stone so as not to be swept away by the licking waves that slapped along the edges.

The currents ran deep and swirled dangerously leaving no doubt as to their death grip beneath the waves. Bull led the way in front of me, his larger and broader form acting as a wave-break in case I couldn't withstand the swell. Solas was nimble enough to avoid the reaching grasp of the water and Varric was careful to cling to my hip. Across the shallow and short peninsula, the ground heaved up into a sharp and unwelcoming hill. It was here that I heard my first stirrings of _what the fuck_. Bull paused with a sudden stiffening of his good ankle and held his arm out to break my pace. His elbow in my chest, I peered around his arm to find what had caught his attention.

"What the actual shit?" I breathed with a hard blink. Before us roamed a handful of miniature _dragons_. No wings, so perhaps they were wyrms rather than baby fucking dragons, but my Dungeons and Dragons information was rusty at best. Bull vibrated with excitement and I glanced at him for explanation.

"Dragonlings," the answer came instead from Solas, his eyebrows raised high on his empty forehead, "let us hope their mother isn't around."

"Oh, don't ruin it, elf." Bull snorted. He drew his maul from over his shoulder and proceeded with sharp intent toward the scaled creatures.

"Wait, _what_ , are we actually - hey, what the fuck, dude!" I had lost all control of the Qunari as he charged. Varric chortled, amused at the antics of our tank and smoothly braced Bianca to his shoulder for a round of bolts to herd the dragonlings. Solas sighed with a shake of his head and dropped a barrier over The Iron Bull, but with the faintness of its color, I had a small inclination to believe the spell wasn't as strong as it could have been. I watched, wide eyed, as the Qunari spent less than five minutes smacking the creatures down with mighty swings.

I don't know if I was more stunned at his eagerness, or the fact that they were baby _fucking dragons_.

"Did you say they have a m-mother?" I asked Solas as we carefully approached the blood stained hillside. Solas gracefully dipped to his haunches and pulled empty vials from his traveling sack. With a gentle hand and sharp knife, he pulled away scales and fed droplets of the searing blood into the empty containers.

"Most likely, yes." Solas nodded and corked the first vial. "Though, I see no remnants of a nest, or carcasses, so one must deduce that this is not their actual den and must have wandered from her sight. Or they're rejects." The elf took a moment to pry away a few talons from toes and wrap them up in oilcloth that we had spared for maps or missives. The booming laugh of our Qunari echoed up from somewhere up ahead and soon his shadow came back into view with the Bull following closely.

"Boss, c'mere." He waved a hand to lure me over, his grin wide and single eye shone with excitement. "I got 'em all, so you don't gotta worry. You can see them up close now."

"Bull, this is one hell of a way to woo someone." I squeaked weakly and stepped around Solas toward the Qunari.

His cheer and excitement were untouched by my teasing, he snorted with a grin. "Oh, no, trust me, if I was, you'd _definitely_ get something better than some half-pint dragonling. C'mon, they're dead, here, take a look." Once I was at his side, he reached down by his feet and gripped the small, protruding appendage of the nearest creature and dragged it over. From a glance, I had to assume the appendage was a sprout of the necessary bone for a wing to form. Somewhat appeased that Bull wouldn't abandoned me if it suddenly came back to life, I knelt down to my heels and inspected the creature.

Rock hard scales armored its head from snout to the back of its neck and down its spine. Long, thick talons were counted in three for each foot and its whole body was colored in patches of green, greenish-gray, and flecks of brown-yellow and copper. _Camouflage._ The appendage Bull had grabbed was, indeed, a protrusion for the wings and a small patch of webbing had already started to grow. The head itself was about as thick as my torso and the teeth were razor sharp and numerous. Bull watched me from overhead, but said nothing as I ran my hands along the scales and turned the head left and right to inspect.

"You really don't have these in your world, huh?" Bull asked gently from over my head. The dragonling's jowls was dropped from my hands and I glanced up at the Qunari. Something between fear and shock must've been on my face (not sure which had been stronger, because honestly, fucking dragons) and Bull slowly lowered himself to a knee and tilted his head curiously at me.

"N-no." I murmured, voice caught from surprise. "W-we... I mean, there are legends and fairytales and folklores that talk about these things like they were common back centuries and centuries ago, but... to actually see one..."

"It's not even the adult one." Varric groused from behind us, bagging a few of the extra vials for Solas. "I agree with Chuckles, let's hope the mother isn't around."

"Ah," Bull huffed with a sour look at our companions, "Yer no fun. She's gonna have to see one eventually. She even missed it when she passed over us the first time we were here."

"If I have anything to say about it, she won't." Solas stated matter-of-fact, his eye narrowed on the Qunari. "She has rifts and demons enough to handle, we don't need to add dragon-hunting to the list."

"What, wait, dragon-hunting?" I stammered and swiveled around to Solas. "People actually do that?"

"Sure did. Shit, you should ask Cassandra. The Pentaghasts were famous for it." Varric tugged on a part of Bianca and folded her back up. "Her family originates from Nevarra, and the Pentaghasts were dragon-slayers ages ago."

"Not quite common knowledge, but the legends do swell over time. I imagine the Seeker never brought it up." Solas interjected at my fallen expression. I shook my head, ashamed at my lack of knowledge on Cassandra's previous life. Solas nodded with a brief shrug. "As I said, it is not a legend that one hears in a commoner's tavern. The royals enjoy their histories more than most."

"I never knew..." I lamented. All this time that I had Cassandra by my side and I knew not one single iota of her life before the Inquisition. Shame flooded my lower gut for a moment and with scattered thoughts, I made a mental note to talk to the woman when I saw her again. Who knew when that would be, as she was off currently in the Hinterlands to acquire the last of our horses. A sigh fluttered up my throat and any curiosity I had for the creature at me feet died out.

My Mark flashed from my left side and on cue, we all froze.

"Sweetheart?" Varric prompted quietly. Solas and Bull remained silent, their gazes intent on me. My attention was in tatters as I tried to place where the pull had come from and how far away it could be. Uselessly, I clenched my left hand and turned in a slight circle, desperately listening.

"The Blade said the demons were haunting a dock, right? Bull, did you see any?" I asked, my eyes catching the gaze of the Qunari.

"Yeah, just over there, up that path. There weren't any demons when I took a peek." He answered softly. With a nod, I stepped past him and Solas immediately swept to my left side, staff at the ready as he followed me. Bull came along my right and Varric brought up the rear with the faint clicks of Bianca whispering behind us. We wandered up the path and the dock came into view as we came down along the other side of the hill of the island. The waves of the ocean slapped against the rotting wood and the whole construct groaned with each tug and push of the greedy sea. The Mark in my palm flared again and remained a constant glow; _we're close._

"Like a black hole, right?" I murmured rhetorically to Solas. "Just gotta walk by and see what rips open."

"Essentially." Solas huffed, displeased with my detachment. "Though, I would not recommend attempting to capture any demons within your grip."

"I second that." Bull grumbled off to my right, the maul drawn from its holster to rest on his shoulder. "From what I've seen, it's not an effective weapon, it makes your arm go numb and we can't have that if you're swinging a maul around." Solas glanced at the Qunari from behind my back and paused before giving the other man a nod. With both of them turned against me and Varric silent on matters that were a bit beyond his understanding (or comfort) I was left to acquiescing.

"No promises." I replied. I reached for my maul and unhooked it to have it ready at a moment's notice. Together we cautiously made our way closer to the dock, and with each step I could feel the Mark pulse and pull at the muscle under my skin. My vision tunneled as I swept my gaze along the dock for the source. Faintly, I could hear the distant cries of shallow voices and the double-echo of thunder and crashing waves. Around me, though the sea was unrelenting with the incoming tide, there was no actual storm or thunderclouds, and the waves were not hard enough to crash as I could hear them.

"Solas." I called to my companion. He neared me, his head tilted with ears twitching, waiting and watching for my distress. I ignored his expression, my eyes glued to the waves that broke along the underside of the dock. "... would it be possible to hear memories through the Fade?" My elven companion stiffened as if electricity had struck his bones, but made no move other than a harder flick of his ears with a hard line pinched between his brows.

"You can." He answered roughly. "If one took precautions for safety, it is possible to be in a waking dream and explore the Fade. If a place had been afflicted or flooded with strong emotion, both negative or positive, then yes, one could experience a memory from the Fade. Why? What do you see?" His tone had become harder and sharper, he had taken a step or two to be in front of me, but my mind had wandered, listening instead to the memory of a catastrophic storm that had crashed into this island.

"I don't see anything that you do," came my honest reply, my gaze running along the dock, "but I can hear... something. Screams, but they're different. Like... like when you're waking up from a nightmare. Distant and terrified. I can hear waves, but they don't match the motion of _these_ waves. They're on a different rhythm. I can hear... Thunder, but...?" I looked up to lead Solas along my deduction. There was a light sprinkle of rain coming down, a mist more than anything, but no thunder, no lightning. Solas stared up at the sky for a moment before he turned his gaze to me, pained and saddened all at once.

"It proves a theory, then." He remarked sadly. "You _are_ connected to the Fade, beyond much more than just the beacon in your hand... a walking rift with an unknown detonation." Being so close to a weakened part of the Veil, I could feel a dull and murmuring echo of their emotions. Solas was locked up tighter than a vault, a blank spot amongst all the other sensations that flooded me. Varric was lit bright with fear and uncertainty and Bull...

Bull was nothing but calm. A sole, unyielding shadow of assurance and confidence in my sphere of the Veil. It was enough to startle me out of my compartmentalization and with a hard blink, I returned to the world of the living. The crashing waves weakened in my ears and the screams of fear and terror were mere echoes in the back of my mind. Alarmed and disoriented by the sudden mental shift, I took a step back from Solas, wide eyed and spooked.

"Easy." Bull's massive hand came down on my head, holding me in place. "Breathe, boss. Just a few big ones."

"Y-yeah," I exhaled, my lungs unraveling from their shriveled state of fright. "Yeah, right. I got it. I'm good."

"What happened?" Varric chirruped from a place behind me, off to my left, one eye pinned to the Mark on my hand. Solas remained in his place, but he was focused on something else entirely, on the Mark or what I had experienced, I was unsure.

"Memories. Pieces of memories coming through the Fade. I can hear people screaming, actual _people_ , not the twisted version that demons make." I shifted a glance to Varric with a hope to assure him I hadn't lost my mind. "I can hear waves breaking harder than these ones. A-and a ship crashing, I think, but that's it. Do you think... Solas, do you think if I open the rift, the spirits would be...?"

"The victims of a shipwreck?" He finished, expression tight and his voice hollow. "Probably. Most likely. We would not be able to confirm, as the rift will pull them through and destroy whatever they once were." The mist of the gentle rain coated us and mingled with the sweat of my palms, my left hand clenched loosely and my right light on my maul.

"I can't leave the rift here, if it is." I answered softly, pained. "I... I don't want to hurt them, but I can't just walk away."

"They're demons." Bull announced behind me, growling deep from his chest. "What's there to hurt?"

"They're not demons." Solas snapped tightly with a sharp glance at Bull. "They're spirits, twisted by the Veil as they're pulled _through it_."

"I agree with Jaime." Varric muttered, Bianca tight to his chest. "Let's just get the rift closed up so that _more_ don't get yanked from the Fade." The agitated emotions of my companions grew a ball of static in the palm of my left hand and I was forced to step away. _Bad juju._ Not good for the soul. I stepped a pace or so closer to the docks and just before the lip of the first plank, I could hear a hiss of pain.

"Found it." I stated, surprised. This rift was unlike the others I had encountered; for the others only wanted to burst at the seams of the Veil, but this one was content to shudder in existence, quiet and undisturbed. The screams of the fading shipwreck were a constant in the back of my mind, but I could feel no demon or powerful encroaching spirit from the other side. Slowly, my left hand came over my head, palm bared to the wind and mist.

There was a spark between my flesh and the Veil, and a slithering slip of the Fade flashed open, with a handful of tethers from within spewing out. Curious, my hand lowered and took up the handle of my maul to stabilize it for a few seconds before I stepped toward a tether on the ground and slammed my maul into the spout of spiritual energy. All four of us jumped as the well of energy curled in on itself and then exploded outward, splattering us with hazy dust.

A single blink and Bull took off toward the others, maul raised.

Solas was not as quick on his feet, but he and Varric turned to another tether and fired upon it. Two more links of the Fade were extinguished, but none of us were fast enough to catch the last one. A demon howled angrily as it crawled up from the hole in the ground, its infernal-flamed self steamed as the mist smothered it. An arrow shot with a quiver into its mouth as it yowled and Solas' staff brought a shattering of ice down on its head.

Bull's massive form charged forward, the maul swung high over his head and was brought down with a clatter to scatter the demon's form. The Veil's rip behind me shuddered, faint echoes of cries and a distant storm wafted through, but I raised my hand and one lonely tether gripped my limb. The usual tug-o-war that I had with the other rifts was nonexistent. As a matter of fact, I could feel no resistance from the other side.

Gently, I twisted my hand around the link of faint green Fade and pulled toward my chest. Like a zipper, the rift laced itself back together and with a ghostly, ethereal sigh, it closed. A stunned silence lay over us, all eyes on the rift that I had closed with no fanfare. My attention dropped to my hand as I brought it close and sure as shit, the Mark was dormant and pale.

"What the actual fuck?" I whispered in utter confusion. "It's _never_ been that easy."

"Some areas of the Fade are not as... powerful," Solas started by way of explanation, "the memories themselves gain presence over the course of centuries, either because history is repeated, or their is a large enough population that holds the same memory, like a battlefield."

Varric peeked around Solas' hip. "... so the shipwreck was a small one, you're saying? Not enough to actually fuel the rift in the Fade?"

"In a sense. It would also explain why there were so few demons. There isn't enough here to survive." Solas frowned down at my Marked hand and I curled my fingers into my palm, the fist brought down behind my hip. I glanced back into the empty air where the rift had been and shuddered. It was one thing to talk about the dead and the afterlife, it was another to _experience it_ while still living.

"Huh." I exhaled with a thoughtful glance at my hand.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Varric frowned and stepped closer to me, Bianca safely placed away over his shoulder.

"What's going to happen to me when I die?" I asked curiously. The three men around me froze, hesitation gripping their expressions as they assessed me, perhaps suddenly concerned for my state of mind. It was a valid question, as far as I was concerned. As much as I wanted to believe Varric when he promised to find me a way home, it was _highly_ improbable that he actually would.

I wasn't religious in my old life, but this new one was making it extremely hard to ignore the idea of _life ever after._

"Where did that question come from, boss?" Bull's only eye focused on my face critically, but his mouth and shoulders were at ease. Investigative rather than defensive over my dark thought. My attention turned to him as Solas' gaze was locked onto my hand, his mouth set in a hard line and his non-existent brow heavy over his eyes.

"In my old world, there's a fuck load of different beliefs, religions, gods, y'know? But for the most part, the aftermath of death is pretty consistent, you move on to another - I dunno, plane of existence. A second part of the journey." Around me, the men grew uncomfortable and for a split second, Bull stiffened next to me and seconds later forced himself to relax.

"I suppose... Maker, what a question." Varric scratched at the back of his head. "No real way to answer that. I mean, you're human, but if I remember correctly, only the faithful are taken to the Maker's side, right?" He turned the question to Solas, the elf caught unawares and his ears twitched anxiously.

"Not quite." Solas winced. "According to the Chantry, the Maker has since abandoned all His creations and will not heed prayers or perform any miracles until his faithful repent."

"Where do y'all learn this shit." I grumbled and holstered my maul. "If I'm going to be stuck here, I need to start learning this."

"I'll have Leliana update your library with the material." Solas sighed and rubbed at his forehead. "For now, let us... move on." Without adieu, Solas turned on his naked heel and proceeded to lead us back up the hill. Varric and I followed with Bull behind us, the crashing of the sea the only conversation for another handful of moments.

"Does me being human mean I automatically get sent to the Fade?" I prompted again, my curiosity winning out. I was knowledgeable enough to have a passing conversation about Christianity and now sorely lamented the fact that religious studies hadn't been an interest back in college. Ignorance at this point was not blissful.

"Not necessarily." Solas replied from the front. "I hadn't thought to ask, but have you had dreams while you slept?"

"Uh," I was blindsided by the realization that, _no_ , in fact. "Negative. But dreams aren't common. Plenty of people in my world go years without dreaming."

"As do regular humans here. Mages, or those with magical abilities, are inherently tied to the Fade." Solas tapped his staff and the bulb attached to it glowed faintly. "They use that source to manipulate reality and reshape it, and due to that, they are susceptible to influence of spirits, both benign and demonic. They dream almost every time they sleep."

My thoughts narrowed. "Can I ask what a harrowing is?"

"Maker's Balls," Varric sighed heavily, "what a box of bugs this turned out to be."

"Lady Vivienne mentioned it to her." Bull offered softly. I glanced at him askance, eyes narrowed. The Iron Bull gave no indication of shame and shrugged to simply say, "Spy."

 _Ass. I'll have to take better care about the length of his ability to hear._

"A Harrowing is actually a ritual." Solas sighed and I had the distinct feeling I was dragging all of us into a discussion better left for dead. Tough shit, because the more and more I played with the Mark, the more and more it crystalized that my connection to the Fade was a dangerous one and I needed to have all cards laid bare for me.

"It is, or _was_ as the Circles have fallen, a test that every mage-apprentice had to pass in order to become a full member of their Circle." We had already passed the corpses of the dragonlings and with a flick of my hand I ordered Solas to continue out toward the south. Night was falling and it was best to find our way back toward the Hessarian base.

"This ritual allowed apprentices to enter the Fade and face a demon who wished to enter the living world." Solas and Bull navigated the rocky shores of the coast with ease while the rest of us slipped around like ducklings to get to the other side. Solas paused for a moment to watch us before continuing, "The demon would set a series of challenges or ruses to trick the mage into allowing a possession to happen."

"That... sounds like a load deck. How is that fair?" I asked, alarmed by the implication of possible possession. Hearing stories and folktales of possession, both modern and archaic, were mere forms of entertain to me. Never once did I think to believe they were more than just that, _a story._

"I would agree with you," Solas muttered, "but the belief is that if a mage is of sound mind, possessed with a strong will and common sense, they can resist the demon and come back from the Fade, thus having passed their Harrowing." I walked alongside my elven friend, head gently ducked as I watched the eroded stones under my feet pass by.

"I wonder if that's what she meant?" My question was quiet and directionless. "Lady Vivienne stated that because I hadn't ever gone through a Harrowing, that we couldn't assess the actual power or danger that the Mark posed, for me or us as a whole."

Solas considered it and half-nodded. "That would make sense, for her. She must be estimating the powers of the Mark to those akin to magic, as they are both connected to the Fade. What prompted the discussion, if I may ask?" He turned to look at me, brows raised with curiosity and a rapid chill when down my spine. _Was it personal? Was it a memory? Can I share that?_

My life was on the line.

"This doesn't leave us, _any of us,_ clear?" I glanced over my shoulder with an accusatory gaze shot at all my companions. A blink from Varric, a nod from Solas and silence from Bull was all I got for agreements. My attention switched back to Solas, the elf now doubly curious as to what had transpired.

"Back in the Fallow Mire, when we were fighting the Revenant, I think the other demon with it, the cold one, was using a memory to taunt Vivienne." Varric's ears perked at the new information, but behind us, Bull's neck tightened enough to hunch his head slightly, a dark expression over his face.

"How so? I do not need details of the memory, but how did you know it was directed at her?" Solas asked, the grip on his staff tightening.

"I heard her voice, I... could see parts of the memory. I didn't tell Vivienne what I saw, only that I had seen it." I spared a quick glance over my shoulder at the Qunari, but his stance had returned to normal nonchalance and ease. Something had bothered him, but I hadn't the time to pin it on a reason.

"Hmm." Solas rubbed at his chin with his free hand. "It's not uncommon for demons to use visions or memories to charm mages, but the fact that you were capable of seeing it, whilst outside the Fade..."

"Another nail in the coffin that this Mark connects me to it, huh?" I clarified. Solas nodded, eyes closed and his mouth softened sadly.

"And as you have not passed a Harrowing like most mages, there's no telling if you can be trusted to resist temptation." Solas added and he too spared a glance at Bull. The Qunari, amicably, ignored our worried gazes and continued to march behind us, silent and looming. Varric kept his feet forward and gaze straight, unwilling to open the Pandora's Box that was _cage her or don't_.

"What do we do if it happens?" I asked quietly, dread bloomed at the bottom of my stomach. Solas trudged along beside me silently for a minute or so, the patter of the rain kept my ears from ringing with the emptiness.

"There's no record of reversing a possession," Solas finally answered softly, "should it happen, the most likely outcome is death."

"... great." I murmured, shoulders slumped and internal organs frozen. "At least make it a quick one, yeah?"

None of them answered me.


	26. ACT I: Murphy's Law

**ACT 1:** _Murphy's Law_

* * *

 **Note:** _Holy shit. I live. So, this chapter came out HELLA longer than I thought. This is the first half to the end of the arc._

* * *

The Storm Coast was left behind as a thundercloud cracked overhead and devoured the land in a torrential downpour. My soldiers were less than happy being left behind, but with the promise of new tents and refreshed supplies, they were appeased. A handful of missives were also sent out between them and ahead to Haven, a hasty addendum that the Blades of Hessarian were to be allies and not obstacles. My three-man-troupe was more than happy to be gone from the constant wetness that was the Coast and into the frozen hands of Haven.

Murphy's Law had struck.

We encountered a mess. What little we had in the way of supplies had been stripped to the barest of bones, the plague that had followed us from the Fallow Mire had taken root in our troops and devastated nearly half of them. Chantry Sisters were scurrying all about the place that the snow normally abundant in the area was stamped out completely. It was with panicked swiftness that I shucked my dirty armor and under clothes for fresh ones at my cabin, twisted my hair into a bun and rolled my sleeves to my elbows before crashing chest first into Adan and Leliana.

"What the _hell_ happened?" I demanded with a growl at Adan. Leliana's eyes were narrowed and in her hand a report gripped nearly to shreds. Adan's face had turned pinked right to his ears and his cheeks were puffed to critical mass.

"One of the soldiers that had come back from the Mire had _lied_ to us." Adan snapped, about as pleased as a pissed off cobra, eyebrows raised. "He hid his symptoms of his illness until his whole troupe came down with the sickness!" The man wasted no more time on me and shoved past my shoulder with a harsh, snapping wave to Leliana. I turned on my Spymaster and watched as her nose flared with quiet anger.

"Twenty-eight so far are dead, Herald." She muttered between tight teeth. "Fifteen others are in dire stages and a handful are showing signs of the illness." For a split second, Leliana's face paled and her eyes wavered under her brow. "It's spread like wild-fire."

"It's a plague, so yeah." I ran a hand over my head. "Christ, where are the sick ones?"

"The southern camp, out by the logging area where the Chargers had taken up." Leliana opened the tattered parchment in her hands. "Josie has been doing her best to keep the plague at bay with supplies, but we're running dangerously short." It was useless to take the paper from her, as numbers were entirely different than letters and I didn't need that headache right now.

"How many troops are currently healthy?" I demanded with a low tone as I walked around her toward the church.

Leliana followed with a quick turn. "A hundred-eight currently here in Haven. Others, thankfully, are away on missions."

"Keep it that way. No one is to come back to Haven unless it's extremely fucking important, and I mean, the whole of Hinterlands needs to be on _fire_ kind of important." I ordered with a heavy pace marching me up through the doors of the church. They were already swung open, the sides of the small cathedral were filled with weary travelers and merchants, a few mages in the wings attempting to assist with the damage.

Leliana and I swept into the War Room like wraiths and Cullen's sunken face brightened considerably at the sight of us.

" _Herald_ ," the Commander exhaled in relief, "it's good to see you back."

"Good to be back, Cullen." I answered quickly. "Do me a favor, any and all troops that have been in Haven since I arrived from the Fallow Mire and then _left_ need to come back right now." Josephine had heard our arrival and it was not long after Leliana and I had walked in that her Goldenness followed in, shutting the door behind her heels.

"... that's quite a lot of people, Herald." Cullen hesitated, his hand on the pommel of his sword shaking slightly.

"We have to, Cullen." I switched to a soft plead. "This plague could be like the one back in my world, or worse, or not - we can't chance that. We need to screen these troops and get them back before this spreads."

"She's right." Leliana nodded, leaving her wrinkled report on the table top. "Unfortunately, with so many dead already, we can't risk it spreading further than Haven, and our defenses are weakened."

"That also includes the Chargers." Cullen argued. "If we drag them out of the Hinterlands now, there's no telling what will happen."

"What are you talking about?" My question went wild from the topic at hand. "What's happening out in the Hinterlands? What the fuck else am I missing?"

"Nothing, truly." Josephine added hastily. "It was only within the last day or so that we received word from Lady Cassandra that an influx of mages had arrived and taken up residency in Redcliffe."

"More like _invaded_." Cullen snapped, his sword swung a bit at this hip, his eyes swift on Josephine before they flashed back to me. "Grand Enchanter Fiona has apparently moved her people from Orlais to the small confines of Redcliffe Castle and its local establishments."

"What?" I demanded to the room at large. "Were they kicked out of Orlais?"

"No, that's the very thing, they just - _appeared!_ " Cullen growled. "Right at the gates of Redcliffe without so much as a how-do-you-do and were marched right into the Castle by one Gereon Alexius."

"Magister of the Tevinter Imperium," Leliana supplied quietly from the left. My head swiveled tightly to glance at her sideways and she continued, "my sources have not been able to bring me much, but it seems that the Grand Enchanter has grown desperate from waiting."

"So she couldn't keep her fucking pants on until I sorted things out?" I grumbled with a glance at the map. The sudden appearance of rebel mages was a cause for a hellhole of concern, especially if they were all concentrated in a singular area that we had only barely managed to wrangle under control from the chaos that was the Breach. Cullen was right, I couldn't pull the Chargers out, because even with Inquisition soldiers intermingled with the citizens there, it wouldn't be enough to safely fill the void at their removal.

"Fucking _hell_." I muttered and placed both palms to my forehead, tapping them for a second. I needed a lot of things, supplies, soldiers, _time_. "Alright, game plan. I need Bull, Blackwall, and Vivienne packed up and ready to leave by the end of today. Get Solas to stay with Adan and help with healing or at least holding this disease at bay. Sera and Varric need to keep civilians safe while we're low on troops. Can we do that?"

Cullen blinked at me, but nodded. "Aye, that can be accomplished. I'll have troops cleared by Adan to patrol and keep the borders."

"I wouldn't necessarily trust Sera to lead, but given that the safety of the 'little people' is at stake, she can be made to keep an eye out within Haven." Leliana sighed heavily with her arms folded behind her back. "I can place her with the other archers. Make it a game to keep her satisfied."

Josephine's shoulders slumped slightly, her half smile relieved. "If Varric and Solas remain here, then I may continue to use Varric's merchants to supply our ailing troops for a while longer with Solas' help, but... where are you to be, Herald?"

"I am marching my pissed off ass to Therinfal Redoubt," I growled, glaring down at the map marker of the newly-scouted fort. With the Templars, I could clear out Redcliffe and bring the mages to Haven to solve the problem of our plague. "They want to be important, I'll shove them right into Redcliffe."

-0-

There was a gentle crackle of rain overhead, murmurs of thunder mingled with the crowd of nobles that surrounded us. It had taken a handful of days for Josephine to petition ten houses from Orlais to march with us to the fortress, a feat that Leliana had taken care to remind me as to its difficulty. Getting nobles to agree to anything was impossible, but getting them to leave Orlais and _march?_

Madness.

I was in the middle of the throng of people. Glittering silver and blinking gold swam past me, men and women of the high court who sniffed and huffed at the dilapidated state of the old and (previously) abandoned fortress. Our scouts had returned with every little in the way of information about what transpired on the inside. The Lord Seeker had keep a tight cap on all within and allowed only a merchant or two to arrive at the gate for food and supplies before sending them away.

Blackwall and Bull stood with me, Vivienne just off to my right with a noble couple, speculating over the events. The bridge to the fort was, itself, in good condition. The rock solid and the lanterns lit with old oil. Over the maw of the arched doorway flapped red flags with emblazoned, sun-kissed swords. The towers that loomed over everything were empty of sentries and I peered at them with narrowed eyes. _Either we're not a threat or they're low on manpower._ Hopefully the latter, because to return empty-handed without a good number of Templars set the whole plan ablaze.

We nearly cleared the bridge when I heard my title of _Herald_ boldly called from within the crowd. I stopped, my gaze scanning the masked faces for the one who hailed me. He approached with a sway of his hip, a bronze mask over his face and the same ridiculous headdress that was currently the rage within Orlais. Momentarily distracted by the tilt of his head, I refocused on his half-covered face.

He smirked under the lip of his mask, "Lord Esmeral Abernache. Honored to participate. It is not unlike the second dispersal of the reclaimed Dales." I blinked at him, unsure of the reference. _Dales_ I understood, since I glanced at the War Room map more than a handful of times a day, but as to their reclaiming... _Wasn't there a war going on through there just now?_

"Nothing?" He interrupted my thoughts, his smirk widening, "divinity puts you above such things, I suppose."

"I do tend to avoid offending the nobility, most times." I finally found my tongue. Honestly, the nobles scared the shit out of me. Nothing I could say would be right and anything I _forgot_ to say was wrong. Fuck walking on eggshells around them, it was like trying to dodge the rain in a storm.

He grinned, "Even so, this alliance between us and the Inquisition is a testament to our power. It's compelled the Lord Seeker to hear our petition." My eyebrows ticked over my eyes at his wording. I hadn't seen the nobles as one solid power and glanced at the crowd as it thinned around us, more of them entering the last stretch to the fortress.

 _There's a_ them _now, is there?_

I fought down my snicker.

"Care to mark the moment?" He prompted me, shoulders high and smirk strong, "Ten Orlesian houses walk with you." Comically, I could see Blackwall and Bull stiffen on either side of me, suddenly fearful of my sailor mouth. A wicked grin flashed across my face and I raised my chin into the rain, relishing in the horror that tightened over Blackwall's face.

"It's a _shining_ day to have the _best_ of Orlais in step with the Inquisition." I flashed my grin at Vivienne, who had pulled up to the noble so quickly that I could almost hear her heels skid on the stones, the irony of my statement lost in the rain, "The first of many inspirational and influential partnerships, I hope."

" _Ooh_ ," the Orlesian breathed, nodding proudly, "you're a _natural_. People will give you _anything_." He walked away from me and I broadened my grin as I hurried past all three of my murderous companions, their glares searing the back of my head. It was an awkward sort of waddle to catch up to the nobleman without outright _sprinting_ from Death that lay behind me.

"Speaking of which," Lord Abernache continued, looking sideways at me as if I had always been there, "I don't suppose you'd divulge what finally got their attention? Rumor will, if you won't."

I frowned, thrown from my internal giggling. "What do you mean?"

"The Lord Seeker won't meet us until he greets the Inquisition _in person_." He huffed, shoulders ruffled under their padding. "Quite a surprise after the spat in Val Royeaux." My gaze flickered to the ground in thought, the mud parting under my boots. He wasn't wrong, it had been a surprise. Leliana and Josephine doubted even with the help of the nobility that the Lord Seeker would speak to us. It nearly came down to having Cassandra dragged back from the Hinterlands to convince him.

Until the crow arrived at our window with a sudden invitation.

"The Lord Seeker may not be singling the Inquisition out for praise, Lord Abernache." I murmured thoughtfully. In truth, I hadn't the faintest, farty clue as to what had so abruptly changed the man's mind. Cassandra had made it clear that the man we had encountered in Val Royeaux was not the man she knew; his rationality and sensibility all but gone.

Who the fuck was I to judge, really?

Lord Abernache sighed, "A meeting is a meeting. Get his ear, see if you can't bend it to something advantageous." A snort from Blackwall alerted me to the presence of my companions, finally having caught up from my escape. The final stretch of the walk opened before us and the nobleman threw his arms wide at the presentation of more banners and, _thankfully_ , Templars.

"Ah!" He exclaimed. "Here we are, Therinfal Redoubt!" My group came up behind me, Vivienne and Blackwall to either side of my person. Bull, as always, came up behind my back, his chest nearly to the back of my skull. He hummed appreciatively and I took as discreet of a shift forward as I could, hiding my red face.

"Defensible." He muttered. "I _like_ it. Someone worked out some issues building this place."

Lord Abernache cleared his throat. "It appears they sent someone out to greet you. Present well. Everyone is a little tense for my liking." He tipped his head to me in farewell and went to recollect with his kin, leaving my group to the open air of speculation. Vivienne reached out and gently tugged on my shoulder pad, straightening it. The moment sparked a smile and I stepped forward.

"Good thing the nobles are here," Iron Bull followed a pace behind me, "maybe the Templars are attracted to shiny objects."

"Well, the Lord Seeker changed his mind about us rather quickly." I answered, wadding through the crowd to get through the front. People parted their way for Vivienne, the mistress of magic seemingly unaware of the gesture, but that placed them in my path and it made for a maladroit dance with only left feet.

"Maybe he thinks you'll save him from this sea of petticoats." Blackwall rasped from my right, his dark gaze jumped from one Templar to the next as we passed them to make our way inside the entrance. Once inside, the rain continued to patter down over our heads, but the cold fled my body as I realized that the one sent to greet us was the Templar I had seen before.

His green eyes flashed with recognition before shadowing with shame. Lord Abernache had come up next to my group not long after we arrived, his servant passing us by to get between the Templar and his lord. The Templar stood straighter, his hands behind his back with a brief glance at Lord Abernache before they settled onto me.

"I present Knight-Templar Ser Delrin Barris, second son of Bann Jevrin Barris of Ferelden." The servant introduced, his words shooting through his nasal cavity with all the clarity of a fog horn. My mouth twisted with my face, unsure of what I heard through the man's accent, because in reality what I heard and what I _understood_ were too wildly different things. I cast my gaze to Vivienne, desperate, and she murmured the introduction to me, clarifying.

 _Fucking shit, it sounded like his brain was gonna burst through his nose._

Ser Barris must have heard my thoughts because the faintest smile touched his lips, gone with the next clap of thunder over our heads.

"Ser Barris," the servant droned on, causing me to wince, "may I be so honored as to present Lord Esmeral Abernache -" Having caught my expression a second time, Ser Barris took pity on me and barreled between the lord and his servant, stopping a foot or so from my person. Small splatters of rain bounced off his armor onto my face as I glanced at him. He was thinner than last I saw him. There was a strain around his eyes and his cheeks were gaunt, with a paleness seeped under his darkened skin.

"I'm the one who sent word to Cullen," he exhaled, distraction racing through his words. "He said the Inquisition works to close this Breach in the Veil." He paused, his gaze briefly leaving my face to spy over my head and past my crew to the nobility that crowded the door. "... I didn't think you'd bring such lofty company."

"Barris," Lord Abernache rudely interjected, his voice rippled with insult from Barris' dismissal, "moderate holdings, your family. And the _second_ son?" A scoff escaped him, but both Barris and I blinked at the lord, the counter-insult missing about a mile above our heads. Hard to insult commoners when we got nothing worth pride.

"This... promise of status has garnered interest from the Lord Seeker." Barris continued with mild confusion, his eyes back on me. "Beyond _sense_. The sky burns with magic, but he ignores all calls to action until your friends arrive."

"The Lord Seeker does realize there's a rip in the Fade hanging above _all_ our heads, right?" I replied, my index finger pointing directly up with a raised brow.

"The Commanders say he's _considering the situation_." Barris nearly spat. "Maker knows _how_." Without a breath of warning, Ser Barris stepped up to me, less than a few hands between us, his gaze focused on my face and his voice thrown low to avoid being overhead by Lord Abernache. An electrifying trill shot up my spine at the proximity and I heard a low, menacing rumble from Bull behind me.

 _Hoooooly shit that's too close, too close!_

"The Lord Seeker's actions make no sense," Ser Barris muttered, his gaze intense as thoughts tried to form into words, "He promised to restore the Order's honor, then marched us here to _wait_? Templars should know their duty, even when held from it." The fervor of his words curled around my throat like a noose, a man desperate for justice and yet caught in shackles he couldn't chew through. I swallowed thickly, swaying slightly on the balls of my heels to get some breathing space.

"A Templar who remembers duty." Blackwall scoffed behind me, arms crossed and face dark. "I thought we'd never find one."

Ser Barris graced him with nary a glance and returned to me. "Win over the Lord Seeker, and every able-bodied knight will help the Inquisition seal the Breach." There was some weird-ass tension going on with Bull and Blackwall behind me and Ser Barris before me. Carefully, so as not to offend anyone's sensibilities, I stepped back from Ser Barris and felt the coiled spring of my men behind me loosen.

 _Christ shit, you guys. Midol._

"I have a feeling the Lord Seeker is going to take some convincing?" I replied with a sigh. Ser Barris blinked when I stepped away, perhaps coming to his senses or realizing the situation we had placed ourselves in, either way he nodded and forced his shoulders to relax. Vivienne had moved around to Lord Abernache, her attempt at placating the ignored noble (or an escape attempt from the testosterone she stood next to).

"I wish I could reassure you." Ser Barris frowned. "Lately he sees no one but the officers. We've been asked to accept much, after that shameful display in Val Royeaux. Our _truth_ changes on the hour." From the corner of my eye, I caught Lord Abernache hold up a hand to silence Vivienne and he took a step toward us.

"Don't keep your betters waiting, Barris." Lord Abernache sneered. "There's important work for those born to it." Ser Barris and I shared a look. Quietly, I rolled my eyes and waved the Templar off with a tip of my chin. Ser Barris nodded and took the signal with a long stride toward the gate to let us in. I made a face at Lord Abernache's back as the hot potato walked in front of me.

Vivienne pinched the skin of my wrist for my insubordination.

Inside the fortress was utter desolation. The training dummies and equipment that littered the area were in horrid disarray. Cullen would have us running _miles_ for such neglect. Barrels were busted open, iron and steel swords rusted up against the walls, and the wooden stalls were crippling into themselves, sagging under their woes, forgotten. My brow pressed over my eyes at the sight of the banners, though, bright and beautiful, swaying in the gentle breeze of the calming storm. A frayed sun-hat disappeared into a beneath them, a tattered young man with pale skin.

"The Lord Seeker has a... _request_ , before you meet him." Ser Barris jarred my thoughts. With a flick of his hand, he waved me over to three separate anchors that connected to standards high up on the wall. Confused, I turned to Barris for explanation and the man winced, embarrassed. "These are the Standards. An honored rite, centered on The People, The Maker, and the Order."

Barris sighed, "The Lord Seeker asks that you perform the rite so that he may see the order in which you honor them." I peered at the standards; a blazing sun for the Maker (I assumed), a lion for the people, and the sword I had seen before, most certainly for the Order. I glanced at my companions as the gathered behind me, Blackwall and Vivienne studying the banners.

Bull stared right at me, as if willing me to understand.

Frowning, I murmured to Barris, "What if I fail?"

"There's no _correct_ answer." He replied with a shrug. "The ritual simply shows watchers who you are and what you value." I hesitated. _What is Bull trying to tell me?_ His expression had been muted, not the neutral one that usually rested on his face, or the confused pinch of his brow that he wore on the regular. It had been different, a sharp line to his heavy brow and a taunt twitch to his jaw.

 _What am I missing?_ I glanced up at the standards again, assessing them. _Is this... some sort of personality test? Is the Lord Seeker trying to get the upper hand?_ I could not, for the life of me, figure out how knowing what I valued most would benefit in a battle of wits. What the Lord Seeker figured out about me would be useless, because I was the epitome of pitiful cognitive malfunction. Can't break what's already broken. I decided to play the game, Bull's warning aside.

"I'm afraid you lot are going to be disappointed," I answered with a quick shot to Barris, "Fancy-mancy title aside, I'm nobody." Barris rounded on me with a heated look, once again stepping dangerously close into my personal space.

"The Lord Seeker changed _everything_ to meet you. Not the Inquisition - _you._ By _name._ " He whispered to me, his gaze flickering to the nobles for a moment. His green glazed eyes narrowed on me again, the same expression that Bull wore desperately trying to get me to understand something I was not catching.

"Why?" I replied with a low voice.

"I don't know," Barris shook his head, "He's been fixated on you ever since your horde of nobles arrived." _So the change is extremely recent, huh?_ The standards fluttered in the wind and drew my gaze, giving me a moment to think. Barris either had no flipping idea what was going on and wanted me to fix whatever it was, or he knew something and couldn't tell me because of our audience. Neither option sat well for me, and Bull was burning a hole between my ears behind me.

"The Lord Seeker makes us shuffle flags around?" Lord Abernache's trill voice cut through my mind. "Refuse! Let's meet the man already!" There was something I was missing, and if my time trying to keep the wandering ducklings that was the whole of Thedas in a basket taught me anything, it was that patience and playing The Game was key.

I turned to the standards. "We'll complete the ritual as the Lord Seeker requests."

"When you've completed the rite, I'll take you to him." Barris acknowledge with a soft bob of his head. Lord Abernache shouted something behind me, but I ignored him as I stepped toward the anchors that held the standards up. My jaw clenched as I swallowed, nervousness fluttered through my ribs and into my stomach. Not that I hesitated, I knew what I stood for.

The People's banner rose the highest.

The Order came second.

The Maker remained where he was.

 _I can save people,_ I thought as I stood back to look at the display. _I can't trust the Maker to have my best interest at heart, and if he's tossed me here to save his children, then he's the last one I need to look to for help._ Bull and Blackwall held my gaze when I looked for them, Vivienne's face was icy, but she offered me a slight smile as I came back to meet Barris.

The Templar assessed my choices and his gaze trailed down to me. "Traditionally, a participant in the rite now explains their choices to those assembled." Muted alarm popped under my tongue, my eyes wide at the idea of giving a fumbling speech to the Templars and nobles that stood around me. Another swallow and I exhaled through my nose, my teeth hurting.

"... I could give you some flowing prose about the value of life and how people are precious and all that," I murmured, my gaze resting on Barris to keep them from trailing over to where my companions stood, "but that isn't me."

Barris paused, his shoulders relaxed a fraction, his voice soft. "Do try."

"All I have is who I meet," I answered just as softly, the wind would have to carry it, "and if life brought them to me, it must be important." A dead silence settled in the fortress' training yard. Barris stared at me, his jaw tight under his skin, his eyes sharper. Blackwall had taken a sharp inhale from behind me and I could hear another rumble come from Bull. Vivienne chuckled under her breath, perhaps amused at my naive explanation.

 _You gotta remember, baby,_ my mother's voice floated up from memory, _what's important is who you give love to, not who loves you._

"How naive," Lord Abernache shattered the silence, "to lie would have been better than to sprout such foolishness."

"I suppose those are _your_ intentions." Barris all but snarled in retaliation. A barbed spark flashed up my spine at his words, my gaze bounced between the lord and Templar, concerned that I would have to dive between them. Lord Abernache took a threatening step forward.

"My _intent_ is to deal with people who matter." He snapped. "You helmed louts are wasting the Inquisition's time - and _my_ time. _Unacceptable_ _!_ " Vividly, despite the mounting danger of a brawl between Lord Abernache and Ser Barris, the Earl of Lemongrab flashed through my mind and I almost brought the whole thing to blows had I not turned my laughter into a violent fit of whooping cough.

"It seems the rain has taken hold," Ser Barris took the excuse of my coughing and lead with it, "the Lord Seeker awaits you both. Follow me." Hurriedly, Blackwall came up to my back and patted between my shoulder blades. I waved him off, watery-eyed and wheezing. Bull and Vivienne shot me knowing glances, well aware that my sense of humor was a hazard more than a help.

We were lead toward the main keep, the stones of the old fortress were darker here, a testament to their age and the weathering they suffered in such a place. Inside, the room was spread out with hay and weakened furniture, old trappings and yawning chests all along the sides. A ornate and dustless desk sat at the center and before that, another Templar flanked by his men.

"Knight-Captain," Barris breathed, saluting the man. Cautiously, my troupe and I walked up to the desk, but Lord Abernache strode straight toward the man, ignorant of the malicious stares that followed him. A shiver went through my legs and I slowed my pace, it brought me right up against Bull's side and the Qunari spared a glance about the room to see what had spooked me.

All throughout this, the Mark had been deadly quiet. Now, though, it pulsed deep like a breathless gasp, my palm felt like a void and no matter how hard I clenched my fingers against it, it never filled and continued to beat with slow, thickening pulses. Something was wrong, thoroughly and horribly wrong. Lord Abernache went through his introduction and my gaze found Ser Barris.

"Ser Barris, I'm right to assume that the Knight-Captain has seen better days?" The man at the head of the desk looked to be held up by the rigid plates of his armor, the skin under the helmet was pale and glistened from sweat, the eyes were sunken into his skull and reddening around the edges. His lips were chapped and the smile he gave me made it worse.

"You." The Knight-Captain grinned at me. "Be _ready._ " The threat floated on the dead air of the room. Bull and Blackwall steadied next to me, Vivienne's hand went around her hip to the small of her back, fingers at the ready for her staff.

"Yes," Lord Abernache followed with a look to us, "be ready to be left behind. Knight-Captain Denam?"

Denam smirked, "The Lord Seeker had a plan, but the Herald ruined it by arriving with purpose. It sowed too much dissent." It was slow and then sudden, shouts and screams echoed through the walls and my Mark thudded threateningly in my palm. Eyes wide, Barris shot forward, nearly colliding with the Knight-Captain.

"Knight-Captain, I must know what's going on!" Ser Barris demanded, the screams and shouts of fighting getting louder around us. I scrambled for my maul, Bull pulled away from me swiftly to catch a Templar with a sword raised to stab another, Vivienne's icy wind swirled around us, tripping a few more and Blackwall brandished his shield at my side. Chaos erupted, the Templars that approached us from the furthest doorways wore hoods and no helmets, their pale and clammy skin were stained red and rippled with rivers of protruding veins.

"You were all supposed to be changed!" Knight-Captain Denam barked, glaring at Ser Barris. "Now we must purge the questioning knights!" More knights appeared from the shadows, bows and arrows trained not on us, but on their fellows. Lord Abernache began to speak, but a nimble-fingered Templar shot him down with an arrow to his temple.

"The Elder One is coming! No one will leave Therinfal who is not stained red!" The Knight-Captain commanded. Arrows sang past us, Bull immediately walling me up against himself and Blackwall, Vivienne's freshly learned Barrier spell dropped over the three of us like a coat. Templars tumbled like ragdolls around us, frantically I searched around the Wall Of Fuck Off to look for Ser Barris, but the fighting has smothered us.

Vivienne wasted no time and with a stamp of her staff to the ground, lightning screeched through the air and ping-ponged between the Templars, their armors only withstanding some of the magical force. _Fucking hell, that's right, they would have protocols for dealing with mages!_ I had brought Vivienne for assistance with the nobility, not to place her in an unfavorable fight.

I gripped Blackwall's arm and yanked his ear down to me, growling, "You stick to Vivienne and keep those Templars from subduing her!" Realization struck him to blow his eyes wide as the weight of the situation we were in crashed over our heads. Templars were on even footing with non-mages, they had to swing a sword like the rest of us, but a mage...

Blackwall took two or three long, bounding strides and bumped into Vivienne's back with his own as he covered her for a blow from a sneaking Templar. I pressed my Marked palm to Bull's hip and pushed him forward. Without a word he obeyed and kept his back to me for cover, his maul swinging and jabbing to spook our attackers. _He's not hitting them -_ we couldn't tell friend from foe, Templars forced to fight or die fleeing, the poor bastards.

Cleared from the door way and avoiding the bodies, I took a hard leap from cover and brought my maul's head into the middle of Knight-Captain Denam's back. The man howled, caught off his guard as he stalked down Ser Barris, but I wasn't going to have any of his bullshit. My knees were ready when he turned on me, eyes wild and sword raised. Growling, I allowed gravity to take the weight of the maul's head and hit the floor, using it as a lever from its handle to shove me upward and I brought both legs up like a spring.

I managed to launch the Knight-Captain from his feet as my boots slammed into his chest. Ser Barris took only seconds to recognize his opportunity and caught the stumbling Knight-Captain in his arms for a choke hold. The straps of his helmet and the plates on Ser Barris' arm kept him from escaping and soon enough the man slumped in Ser Barris' hold.

Around me, ten or so Templars lay dead. Some stained red and others pale faced and fading. Vivienne was breathing roughly through her nose, her brow set hard over her eyes and her limbs trembling. Some of the armor had scorch marks or cracks from the heat. She must of poured more than her normal reserve into making sure her magic affected them.

Blackwall stood behind her, face pinched with worry as he looked to her, but we all knew better than to mention anything. Bull's chest struggled to draw breath, his angry eye swiveled to survey the area, but more shouts from further within the fortress pressed us onward.

My attention fell to Ser Barris, "Is the Knight-Captain alive?"

"Barely," he answered, pulling off Denam's helmet to check. "He would need a healing potion soon."

My eyes shot to the few, unmarked Templars that survived and I stormed to them. " _You_ \- give me a name."

"Jaxton!" The man choked on his exclamation, brown eyes shaking in their sockets and his shoulders shuddering. "Jaxton Marcus, Your Worship!"

"Jaxton," I greeted with a stern face, my mouth into a forced frown. "If you have any love for your brothers and sisters, _help me_ , take the Knight-Captain and run - five kilometers out and you'll find Inquisition forces stationed with Commander Cullen." Ser Barris dragged the limp body of his former Knight-Captain over and deposited the rotting sod into Jaxton's quaking hold.

"Bring them here, Jaxton." I commanded, my voice low and even, my gaze set to his face. The man swallowed, his back tense as I spoke. " _When_ I come out of this and I find out you disobeyed me, you'll sit right alongside the Knight-Captain. _Clear?_ "

"Aye!" Jaxton and his companion next to him answered hastily. I hated using fear as a tactic (and this being the first time I had used it as such), but with the chaos around me and the last betrayal of Denam, I couldn't keep to trust that these men wouldn't just bolt at the first chance of freedom. I _needed_ Cullen to come up and clear the way, my Mark hammered in my hand and who knew what that could mean.

" _Go_ ," I flicked them off with a sharp wave of my hand. The men hauled the Knight-Captain up and booked it out to the open air. Ser Barris held out the keys to the fortress and I snatched them from his open palm. Rage was starting to bubble up in my stomach and not for the first time I wondered how I had become so quick to anger since coming into this world.

My feet led me to the back, the door were a majority of the Templars had flooded in from, and my group followed at a steady pace. Ser Barris drew his sword and took a helmet from one of his clean, fallen brethren. The second I unlocked the door and charged in, maul at the ready, I was greeted by a sword-wielding Templar. Blackwall shot forward with me and we pinned our attacker against the wall. Blackwall's sword dove straight through his chest and then let him fall away to the ground, lifeless.

"Fiends!" Blackwall growled, flicking his sword to get most of the blood off. " _Traitors_ to their kin!"

"I'm more worried about them trying to kill _us!_ " Bull replied heatedly as he followed in with Vivienne and Ser Barris behind him. Watching Bull having to duck through the doorway would have been hilarious had I not been so eager to end the fighting. The shouts of battle continued to echo around us, but the fortress now turned into a maze, stairways and doorways leading to God Fucking Knew Where.

"Barris!" I barked, the man seemingly teleporting into my line of sight. "Lead!" The Knight wasted no time and hunted forward like a bloodhound. We dashed through the darkened hallways and followed in the dim light toward the courtyard of the fortress. It was as I passed through the door into the fading light of day that I heard it, a voice.

 _From my hand._

 _-PREPARE THEM. GUIDE THEM TO ME-_

I fucking screamed, my maul slipped from my hand as it let go to grasp my wrist. The hammering thud that had echoed in my palm grew worse, it now rattled my ulna and radius bone, vibrating under my skin like soundless maracas that shot goosebumps up my arm straight to my shoulder. Nothing actual _hurt_ as much as it was uncomfortable, but my worst nightmare had suddenly manifested.

 _Something was coming through my hand_.

Didn't fucking matter if it was only a _voice_ , it was the principal of the matter, goddamnit.

Bull was on me in an instant, one hand wrapped around mine that held my wrist and the other encompassed my Marked hand and shut my fingers closed around it, the gleaming emerald hue of the Fade peeking through his fingers and my own. Vivienne stood a healthy distance from me, her eyes glued to my hand and her staff at the ready. Blackwall, as I had asked, stood just in front of her, shield up.

Ser Barris glanced at all of us, unsure of where to turn his blade. "... Your Worship?"

"You didn't - you didn't hear that?" I gasped, blinking hard and trying to flex my hand under Bull's death grip. As if his strength alone would be enough to hold back a rift. Ser Barris, Blackwall and Vivienne shook their heads. Bull shook his head when my gaze fell to him, and a flood of terror came up and swallowed my lungs, freezing them behind my ribs.

I gritted my teeth and stared down at my hand, voice quiet and shaking. "Bull."

"I know." He answered readily. "I'll be ready if anything happens. I'll make it quick, I promise." Tears sprung to my eyes and I nodded. Reluctantly, Bull released my hand and held my elbow to help me stand. My wrist shook out my fingers and the light from the Mark pulsed openly as if insulted by the turn of events. My molars gripped hard at the back of my mouth and I yanked my maul up from the ground.

The courtyard had a handful of Templars waiting for us. Blinded by my tears, I jogged forward with Ser Barris and Bull at my sides. We managed to corner the Templars and hauled the others from their vantage points above us. A few arrows missed me, more out of luck than any skill of mine to dodge, and I climbed up the ladder to get to them. It didn't fucking matter, the voice roared back into my head from my hand, causing me to stumble back to the ground.

 _-YOU WILL BE SO MUCH MORE-_

 _Get out of my fucking head!_ My internal screaming went unheeded. The very last thing I needed was to bring about my death preemptively because he thought I lost to whatever the fuck was trying to control me through my goddamn palm. _Where is Solas when I need him?!_ We were going to have a field day with this when I got back to Haven.

If I got back to Haven.

Noodle legs brought me up to an unsteady sway, I had lost sight of my companions as they had moved ahead to fight, except for Bull. The Qunari stayed on my shadow and I could only imagine the difficulty he was having trying to keep his one good eye on the fight and on my state of mind.

 _-SHOW ME WHAT YOU ARE-_

 _Come out and actually face me, freak._ I snarled through my scattered thoughts. My stomach had dropped out through my ass, because if something came flying out of my palm, the Templars could go fuck themselves. It was all bravado in the heat of the moment, but I was almost ten-thousand percent sure that if something happened with the Mark, my first instinct would be to run _away_ from Bull, not toward him.

 _-I WOULD KNOW YOU-_

Christ, not a moment's breath between one pulse and another. Every sentence that came through made the edges of the Mark feel like they were splitting. Time and time again I glanced down at my hand to assure myself that one, nothing had come through or no weird-o Fade creature was peeking at me through it, and two, that my hand hadn't actually split. Hurriedly, I tried to keep up with my companions through the fighting, but numbness had crept into my left arm, and now I was swinging at half-power.

Somehow, Ser Barris managed to lead us into another part of the fortress, a new building that had a pack of five or six untainted Templars fighting off their brethren. Bull rushed in after the rest, my weakened self following with the maul dragging slightly along the ground. Thankfully (for me) the fighting seemed to be at the end, the last of the tainted knights smacked into the ground.

"Good timing!" The knight grinned at us, blood-splattered and shaking from his efforts. "I don't know what's happened, all the officers have been turned into those things! There, fly up the stairs, you'll get to the main court!" Ser Barris waved him out of the building to leave where we had cleared the path out. Blackwall and Vivienne took the steps two at a time, with the other three of us lumbering close after.

A raised training area greeted us, a fight of a handful of Templars here as well. The sound of feminine voices gripped the air, sisters pleading with their kin, but everything they tried failed. Ser Barris rushed past me, the strain on his face and his shoulders clear as he swung awkwardly to defend his untainted knights. _It must be killing him to turn on his kin, Christ._ Vivienne sent a wave of ice through the earth and captured our opponents, swallowing them into the earth.

"Keep running!" Vivienne shouted. "We cannot afford the delay!" She was right, the longer we stayed behind to fight the minor players, the longer the rest of them suffered. _A few for the many_ , and it was a horrible thought, but I couldn't let this spread to the rest of my troops, to Thedas. Bull stayed ahead of me and true to his name, bull-rushed me forward toward the main hold.

 _-THE HERALD OF ANDRASTE. IT'S TIME WE BECAME BETTER ACQUAINTED-_

My Mark was thrumming at such a fast pace that my fingers had gone completely numb from the sensation. My whole left arm was useless. Frustrated and teary-eyed, I abandoned my maul at the bottom of a long staircase, the stone steps leading me up to statues of hooded figures who held their arms up in offering. Bull growled loudly behind me, he must have spotted my maul, but something was dragging me forward, forcing me to run up to the door at the top.

 _-COME. SHOW ME WHAT KIND OF WOMAN YOU REALLY ARE-_

I took the steps two at a time, my boots smacking against the wet stone with my full-footed leaps to get to the top. The stone statues had their gazes focused down at the landing, their arms stretched out high and casting faint shadows under the stormy sky. The giant, red door loomed from its place at the top of the funneled stairway and at its center with his back to me, appeared to be the Lord Seeker.

He was still as I approached, my companions and Ser Barris climbing the steps to reach us. There was a moment that paused between us as the Lord Seeker turned to glance at me over his shoulder, his body following with the slightest turn. The Mark was humming, growling in the heat of my palm and by the time he finally turned to face me fully, it was screaming through my nerves.

"At last." The Lord Seeker grinned to the edge of his mouth and jerked forward, his hands coming around my throat. My inhale shot down into my lungs and ricocheted between my ribs, my hands swept up to grip the bends of his elbows as he hauled me forward, toward the door.

There was a flash of green as the world when turned white around us.

From one stumbling step to the next, I was ripped through the opening he had created, my Marked hand howling as my eyes opened to the dusky world around me. My maul was missing, since I had dropped it in my mad dash to get to the door. Around me the Fade essence swirled like a fog, glowing and deep, obscuring the furthest view of my sight. Pillars sprung up around me, holding up a ceiling that faded in and out of existence. Torches lit the path down the middle and slowly, I followed it.

Soon bodies began to appear, much like the ones I had seen at ground zero of the Temple of Ashes. One by one, as I passed them, the bodies came alight with fire and their twisted forms had their faces turned up to the ceiling as if praying. Each of them a new form, a new stance, arms raised up high or holding themselves together, faces charred and disfigured and then at the end of my walk, I could see two painfully familiar figures.

Cullen and Josephine.

From between them, just beyond the shimmering shrubbery came Leliana, her face twisted with a wicked smile I didn't recognize. _This is impossible. Breathe, Jaime, stay focused._ A flare of my nose and I inhaled deeply, the faint smell of smoke and burned hair came into my senses. Leliana stood before me, still grinning, her hands before her and the other Hydra heads flanked her, slow grins taking their faces as well.

"Is this shape useful?" Leliana cooed. "Will it let me know you?" She walked around to Cullen and I could see the glint of a knife in her hand. My brow pinched together and quietly, I watched, wondering at the creature before me. _This isn't Leliana. She would never allow so many open movements. She'd never let you see the knife until after she was finished._

"Everything tells me about you." She hummed at me. "Even this: watch." The blade came up to Cullen's throat and the manic smile that had rested on his face slipped off almost in the blink of an eye. Josephine remained unmoved and the whole situation was more confusing than it was unsettling.

"... are you a demon?" I asked tentatively. "Is this supposed to scare me?" Leliana peered at me over the fur of Cullen's cloak, the blade steady against his neck. Slowly her eyes narrowed and the blade drew across the pale flesh of the Commander. His eyes rolled back into his head and his knees buckled, allowing his weight to crash to the ground at my feet.

Leliana stared at me, but her voice echoed as mine, " _Are you a demon?_ " My eyes went wide at the sound of my own voice from a foreign mouth. Leliana backed away and disappeared in a swirl of Fade fog. Movement to my right brought my attention to Josephine, the same blade that had slit Cullen's throat in her hands, her finger tip pressed to the point.

"Being you will be so much more interesting than being the Lord Seeker." She smirked, blade aloft in her hand. Like a snap of fingers, information came rushing back. The ritual. The voice. _He's a doppelganger, he's trying to replace me._ Josephine walked past me and I swear I blinked for less than a second and she was gone.

"Do you know what the Inquisition can become?" Her voice murmured by my ear. "You'll see." My shoulders hunched with a hard flinch at the proximity of the voice, but I was finding it harder and harder to be afraid. _You have no idea what it's like to be me. You could spend years studying me, and no one understands anxiety quite like the anxious do._

- _WHEN I'M DONE, THE ELDER ONE WILL KILL YOU AND ASCEND. THEN I WILL_ BE _YOU-_

"I mean," I answered to the empty space above my head, my hands raised in a shrug, "Good luck? I'm still in the tutorial stage."

 _-YOU ARE UNDER THE MISTAKEN IMPRESSION THAT I REQUIRE CONSENT-_

"I am fully consenting." I deadpanned. It was very hard to hold onto the terror of possession when you had a monologuing demon. If Bull or Blackwall, or much worse _Vivienne,_ been here with me, I would have been struck dumb at the back of my head by a swift hand to keep my mouth shut. It peeved me in movies when villains paid no mind to the hero asking them to stop. Now I realized why.

"Glory is coming, and The Elder One wants you to serve him like everyone else: by dying the _right_ way." Josephine had appeared at my side again and though I still flinched at the proximity of her appearance, I knew better now. With my expression still dead to the demon's smile, my hand snatched my small knife from my belt and I shoved it up into Josephine's diaphragm.

Alarm flashed across the demon's eyes before Josephine popped into smoke.

"Oh my god," I laughed, "what the fuck are you, a Goomba?"

"I am not your _toy_ ," Cullen's deep voice hissed from behind me. If my eyeballs could roll out of my head from the sheer effort I had thrown into rolling them, they would have. The first few times of appearing behind me worked, because this place was dark and dusty and smelled like rotting flesh, but all of that was falling to the wayside at the demon's antics. With a hand on my hip, I faced him, eyebrows raised.

The demon snarled with Cullen's face, "I am _Envy_ and I will know you!"

Stupidly, I grinned at him.

"Tell me, _Herald_ , in your mind." Cullen stormed around me, teeth bared. "Tell me what you think!" A vision solidified into a version of me, metallic and glittering with glowing eyes that matched the Mark on my hand. I glanced down at my palm, but my arm was still completely numb and unresponsive. The demon took a hard stab at her back and she dropped much like Cullen had before.

"I hope I fall with a bit more grace than that when I die." I joked, gesturing to the fallen corpse with my small knife still in my hand. "That was just pitiful." He disappeared and I felt something bump up against my ass. Hot heels turned me around to find the war table pressed to my hip, Demon Cullen towering over the figure pieces.

"Tell me what you feel!" The table vanished as did he, and I heard a gasp behind me. Another turn and the same metallic version of my face came into view, my fake body tumbled forward into my arms, blood staining the front of her stomach. Without pause, I immediately dropped her like a hot potato and she made the wettest of smacks when she hit the ground.

"Oh, that's just nasty." I muttered. It was absolutely surreal to see one's face in three-dimensions beyond a mirror, but when it was copper colored and had glowing eyes, the realism of the idea was lost. I was a very practical woman, after all, and there was only so much disbelief you could ask me to suspend.

 _-TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE-_

A doorway appeared and light shined through it.

"Uh," I puttered for a moment, "... a light at the end of the tunnel? This is very anti-climatic, I'll have you know." Reason told me not to follow along with the demon's plan. This was his world and he could control it as he wished, manipulating it as he saw fit to get the most out of me, but curiosity was starting to win out. He clearly couldn't read my mind, otherwise he would have just done so and killed me, he needed me to _answer_ him.

He needed me to teach him who I was.

"Mother fucker, you are so screwed." I laughed as I walked through the arched doorway. "Even _I_ don't know who the fuck I am." Perhaps the intelligent thing to do was to keep quiet and not answer him, or speak out of turn. The less information he got, the more work he had to do to pass off as me, and if he _did_ somehow manage that, it would be enough to make Bull suspicious.

I laughed harder, "Ooooh, my fuck, dude. You think you'll learn enough about me to pass? I got someone who has been _waitin'_ to kill my ass."

There was no answer, not that I expected one. The demon seemed to be just on the touch side of _miffed_ from our last chat. The room I walked into winked into existence, a shadowed copy of the dungeon I had been jailed in at the start of this whole mess. I stopped and inspected the scene, my mind whirling. _Why this memory?_ I glanced around. Did he only care about the memories that made me The Herald of Andraste?

... _or are those the only memories he can see?_

My feet stopped and I listened to Cassandra's faded voice accuse the shadow version of myself. I crossed my arms as I watched, curious. _Would he only have access to the memories_ _after the Mark was anchored to my hand? _ It would make sense, then, why he needed me to answer him - because he needed to know what of me was a lie, and what was truth.

My thoughts twittered endlessly at the back of my mind as I continued onward, the next room had Shadow Jaime surrounded by soldiers and I missed half of what they said. _Ah, so not just memories, he can create scenes, as well. Good to know. Makes sense, after what I saw with Cullen and Josephine._ Gently, I tipped my head back to look up at the ceiling.

"You know what's terrible about humans?" I asked the shadows. "We're fallible. We will _always_ fail."

- _HOW PESSIMISTIC OF YOU-_

"You know what that means, don't you?" I said, amused. Silence answered me and so I murmured, "It means _you_ will have to fail, too." There was a rumble of a distant growl and it brought a smile to my face. _To be human is to err._

 _-I WILL NEVER FAIL-_

"Then you'll never know who I really am, because I am made of failures." I countered. Mistakes made me, shaped me. From the smallest of a skinned knee for riding my bike too fast, to the biggest in letting people die because I was too scared to make a decision. To fail was to be human, and to be human was to fail. We _needed_ to fail to keep going.

- _WERE YOU EARNEST IN YOUR PICK OF THE PEOPLE'S FLAG?-_

Briefly I tumbled through to the next room, avoiding spitting fires. Veilfire, I recognized, but some of them burned yellow and red, and I was a bit reticent to test it against my (fake?) flesh? Am I real in this world? Was I transported physically, body and soul? Or did he just manifest my soul here? Where was here? Christ Almighty, too many questions.

"I am going to need a fucking drink after this." I grumbled, shoving aside more shadows and listening to the distance voices of the memories he was attempting to create. "You're gonna make me an alcoholic and I hope if you take over, _you_ die from liver failure, you fucker."

- _WERE I YOU, I WOULD MAKE SURE THE PEOPLE NEVER FORGET WHAT YOU DID TO THEM-_

I raised my hands up beseechingly to the ceiling, "Are you even _listening_ to me? You're gonna fail the pop quiz if you keep ignoring me." The next room was much the same, but it had vomiting towers of wolf-heads that were flooding the floor with Veilfire. The stuff disappeared immediately once it touched the ground so it was a few minutes of fancy-foot work to get me through.

 _-DO YOU SEE HOW GLORIOUS MY INQUISITION WILL BE AFTER YOU DIE AT THE HANDS OF -_

" _You're hurting, helpless, hasty,_ " a new voice echoed from behind a nearby door. Startled at the gentle voice, unfamiliar and unchanged by the demon's throaty rattle, I lunged for the door it came behind and strangled the door's handle in my grip, shaking it loose. I flew into the room, looking around for the owner of the voice, my left arm swinging uselessly by my side.

" _What happens to the hammer when there are no more nails?_ "

"Hello?" I called out into the room, spinning a bit on my heel. The walls of the room looked like they were dripping, wet and slick from something. There was no Fade essence or Veilfire here. The furniture was placed neatly, all up on the wall, breaking the laws of physics. I moved to a basket and touched it, pulling the lid off, but when I let go, it dropped against the wall, not the floor I stood on.

- _WHAT ARE YOU? GET OUT! THIS IS MY PLACE-_

The bed looked to be dry, and the only piece of furniture that wasn't turned topsy-turvy like the rest of its kin in the room. My right hand slid along the end of the bed, the wood was old and cracked. Paintings hung from the wall and were upside down. There was a strange sense of peace that settled in the room. For a moment, my lungs breathed and there was no smoke or burnt hair.

"... thank you, whatever you are." I murmured, glancing around the room once more before I walked out. The breather allowed me to collect my thoughts, and though it could have been another demon, if Envy was furious with it, it gave me a chance to buck him off. Reluctantly, I trudged back to the door, ready to leave.

" _Wait._ "

Everything paused, the voice came once again on a gentle whisper, searching, wanting, and asking. Compelled to listen, my feet stopped and slowly turned me back toward the room. Another glance around and still nothing had changed. My shoulders burned and with a twitch of my neck, I spotted someone behind me.

" _Envy is hurting you_ ," the young man whispered to me, his hand outstretched to pacify me, " _Mirrors on memories. A face it can feel but not fake. I want to help. You. Not Envy_." He sat on the bed, or over it. The image seem to flicker between the two every time I attempted to focus on one.

"Who are you?" I asked gently. "I've... seen you before, haven't I? Out in... the courtyard?"

"... _you remember?_ " His body shimmered again and he reappeared closer with a much more solid form. The same sun-hat I had seen under the banner was tipped over his head, but he stood on the ceiling. " _I've been watching. I'm Cole. We're inside you. Or I am. You're always inside you._ "

I reached out and with my index and middle finger, reached for the brim of his hat and ever-so slowly tipped it to see his face. Pale faced like before, with curious, saddened eyes. Something plucked at my heart as if to tug it from my ribs. He stared at me, motionless.

" _It's easy to hear, harder to be a part of what you're hearing._ " He murmured to me, his face frozen still. " _But... I'm here, hearing, helping. I hope._ " I let go of his hat, but the tilt I had made stayed in place and he stepped toward me, his feet steady on the ceiling.

" _Envy hurt you,_ " his face shifted, a frown of sadness touched his lips briefly, " _is hurting you. I tried to help. Then I was here. In the hearing. It's - it's not usually like this._ "

"I know, right?" I replied with half a smile, "Plans always fall apart when you meet the enemy."

He shared my smile, shyly. " _Something like that, yes_."

There was a scream behind me and it wafted through the door. My attention diverted, Cole disappeared from the ceiling. The door shook on the edges of its hinges, as if something had gripped it hard and was trying to yank itself inside. Cole came back into existence closer to me on the ground and he stared at the door as well.

" _I was watching. I watch._ " He said by way of explanation." _Every Templar knew when you arrived. They were impressed, but not like the Lord Seeker._ "

"The _Lord Seeker_ is an Envy demon, that I get." I answered quietly, my gaze remained on the door, cautious in case anything made it through. "It wants to be me, right?"

" _Yes_ ," he nodded, " _It twisted the commanders, forced their fury, their fight. They're red inside._ " I had heard one of the Templars scream something about the red lyrium, the same substance that had alarmed Varric back at the Temple. A hard swallow went down my throat, my right hand coming up to rub at my dead left arm.

" _Anyway, you're frozen._ " Cole tapped his face. " _Envy is trying to take your face, I heard it and reached out, and then in, and then I was here._ "

"You were... you _were_ there." I studied his face. "Under the banners. You were trying to help me?"

" _Envy is here. Envy is everything, people, places, phases. It takes strength to make more._ " Cole shifted away from me and glanced at the fire, his face glowing from the light. " _Being one person is hard. Being many, too many, more and more... Envy breaks down. You break out._ "

"So..." My thoughts raced to follow along. "He's only got so much to work with, after he runs out, because I'm inside my own head, I have the power to break out once he stops burying me in my own thoughts?"

Cole blinked at me, surprised. "... _yes. Yes, precisely._ "

"Then let's fucking go." I muttered, trotting toward the door. With Cole's instruction, we got past more of the Veilfire spouts and broke through another door way, the demon echoing his words in my head. Cole spared me a glance, but I only took giant leaps forward, as far as my legs could throw me. Scenes of a twisted future flashed by me, but I ignored the. The demon growled in my head.

- _YOU CANNOT RUN FROM ME-_

"I'm not running _from_ you, clown car." I grunted, shoving through another door and dashing down a hallway. Another scene fluttered in front of me, Mother Giselle's voice rang clear in the room and bounced along the walls. Cole was mad on my heels, his gaze intent on my back as I dodged around the shadowy figures.

- _YOU CANNOT ESCAPE WHAT WILL BE_ -

"You have to actually keep up with me first." I was starting to tire. Even as Cole said, that I was within my own head and could wield my own power here, it cost strength and stamina to do so. The next door broke quicker, the room spread out like wildfire, the Fade fog unable to keep up with my hasty pace. Stone walls went up and bars slotted into place. Cole ran before me, to the center of the room, his head tilted curiously.

" _You get it. It's dark here, you need to make it light. Think of sparks._ " He pointed to a brazier that was cupped into the wall. " _You understand that the further up you go, the more you are you. That makes you stronger. Keep going._ "

"Aye, aye, cap'n." I muttered. Quickly, I searched throughout the multi-room vision we were in, ignoring the pleading voices of familiar faces as I went. In one room I managed to find a lit brazier with Veilfire. Tentatively, I reached for a cold torch on the ground and after a few seconds pause, thrust it into the brazier.

The fucking thing lit up.

"Hell to the yes!" Immediately I ducked out of the room and trotted past a bemused Cole. The rest of the rooms had much the same, people and faces I recognized, pleading and begging with me to help, to stop. Pushing past them, I lit the braziers one after another, each one sent a growl through my head as the demon's irritation grew, his presence wavering.

The last one was in the wall in front of Cole. I stormed up to it with heavy footsteps and shoved the torch into the brazier, watching it light up like a broken aerosol can. The wall groaned as it was shoved back, losing stones and pieces as it drew away from me, opening up the area. I turned back to look for Cole, but he had disappeared.

Determined to get out of my own head, I trudged forward.

- _WHAT ARE YOU DOING-_

Stairs appeared behind a door and, as I had been doing this whole goddamn fucking day, I took them two at a time. My knees were ready to give out, my left arm was starting to chafe from rubbing against my armor, my chest hurt against my ribs, my nose was ready to burst a blood vessel from how dry the air had turned and I was Just About Done with the whole fucking place.

If nothing else, I would never attempt to get lost in my thoughts _again_ because fuck this shit I am out.

* * *

 **Note:** _Thank you all who read this far, please expect the next part in the next day or so._


	27. ACT I: FINALE

**Running On Empty:** _A Helping Hand_

* * *

The next room was a mess. Tree limbs and roots slithered out of the ground, the stonework walls were busted and crumbling, the shadows of the visions I saw flickered helplessly, their forms weak and distorted. Skeletons hung from the ceiling, swinging by their tattered nooses. Cole showed up at my shoulder, his head ducked and his gaze pointed toward the center of the room.

Soldiers stood together, terrified. Their armor was one that I recognized from my trips to Val Royeaux, glimmers of faint gold and shields of lions heads, roaring. They huddled together and their whispers carried over to me as I stepped closer, attempting to get around the protruding roots without killing myself with a trip.

" _The chevaliers couldn't stop them?_ " The youngest soldier peered up, eyes hollow and mouth a blackened hole.

The older soldier scoffed, his whole face a shadow, the voice broken up. " _There weren't enough of them, boy. Val Royeaux is burning! The Herald marches here next, bringing even more demons._ "

"What's the point in attacking Orlais?" I asked myself, the visions disappearing once I passed through them.

- _SO YOU'RE CURIOUS. SHALL I MAKE USE OF THAT WHEN I'M YOU?-_

I winced, feeling stupid that I had allowed my mouth its moment of freedom. Cole ghosted up next to me, his hand coming to my elbow and gently applying pressure. A spark of surprise shivered through me as I glanced down and noticed the touch. I had _felt it_ , the gentle touch on the elbow of my left arm. My _numb_ arm. He caught my surprise and shushed me with a finger to his lips, looking up at the ceiling.

" _You're letting the Herald see more to sketch her shapes, but what she sees makes her stronger._ " The very last bit he said to me, his gaze lowered to my face. A pulse went through my arm and only for the barest of moments did I regain control of my fingers. It was gone in an instant, but it was enough. The demon's grip was letting go the longer I pushed, the harder I fought, the stronger I got.

I flashed Cole a grin.

- _QUIET!-_

The next door, mercifully, opened to a yawning courtyard and relief swarmed my soul. I wasn't necessarily claustrophobic, but when you had a low and dripping ceiling over your head, no windows, and door after door after door was much the same, you started to get a little stir-crazy. A Sloth greeted me at the door as I opened it, but Cole came up behind me and shoved a hand between my shoulders, getting me past the demon.

I fell into a combat-roll and jumped to my feet, taking the hint to continue running.

- _YOU WISH TO BE DIFFICULT, THEN SEE THE LEGACY OF THE INQUISITION!-_

Fucking fresh hell, there were more stairs.

- _IT'S FOLLOWERS HOSTS TO DEMONS, YOUR WORLD ASHES SHALL BE-_

" _Keep going forward, you're almost there._ " Cole's gentle voice broke through the roaring in my head. My left hand was tested again, I attempted to curl my fingers and nearly vomited in joy when they curled into my palm, the Mark on my hand a soft, dim light, but it pulsed gently within my skin.

"What do I do, then?" I asked him, testing a gate lock. I could hear the whispers of demons manifesting behind me and it frightened me enough to grip the bars on one side of the gate and raise my foot to smack my heel against the lock.

" _You're making it harder for Envy to think. He'll probably come out soon._ " And if that wasn't the most nonchalant tone I had ever heard. Giving up on the lock, I looked around and spotted the lever, reaching for it and slapping it down with my right palm, playing chicken with the demons that approached.

With Cole's encouragement echoing in my head, my feet continued to bring me up and up. The courtyard twisted and turned, shadows of soldiers and civilians flashed out of my peripheral vision as I sped along up the stairs and through the broken crates and barrels. A stitch had formed on my right side and I raised a fist to beat it out, wheezing as I ran. Some of the soldiers took wild swings at me with their swords, but I didn't have time to waste, I pushed on, desperately looking for a way out.

It wasn't until I took a tumble past another mad swing that I recognized a series of steps that led up to a very familiar door. Enraged at having been lost, _literally_ , in my own thoughts - in a memory that was _less than a fucking hour old_ \- my stride took me up toward the entrance of the fortress, rage fueling each step and ignoring the pain in my knees.

 _You slithering, greasy, meddling piece of a fucking cancerous hemorrhoid when I get out of here I am sending your ass to_ hell _in nine different fucking sections torn by_ **my bare hands _._**

As I came to the door, there was a hard shove that caught me in the back. Vicious and snarling, I turned to see my Shadow Self and she gripped the front of my armor and shoved me up against the door. Infuriated at this whole circus of a shit show, I drew my little forgotten knife from my belt and brought it up to stab Shadow Jaime in the meaty part of her thigh. I should have been thoroughly surprised that I hit flesh, but the creature screamed at me.

" _Unfair, unfair! That thing kept you whole, kept you from giving me your shape!_ "

"What the _fuck_ could you gain from being me, you goddamn stool sample!"I took another stab at her leg and she released me, howling, her hands coming up to her face, smothering her emerald blazed eyes.

She curdled her scream, " _We'll start again! More pain this time, The Elder One still comes!_ " A shadowy figure appeared over her shoulder, looming and blood-red, but it faded as Cole's voice drifted to us.

" _It's frightened of you._ " He murmured, amazed.

Another yowling scream as she turned to Cole, " _GET OUT OF-_ "

My knife found her neck this time.

Sparks flew from the shadow's neck and ignited along my armor, the shine growing bright and then blasting like a flash-bang grenade, howls and vicious whispers trembling through my head. As the light faded and my eyes blinked back the shock, my hand found itself gripped around the neck of a mangled, multi-limbed demon.

Fear should have made me let go.

Fury had me quick-draw my real knife from my belt and catch the demon in its clavicle before it launched itself away from me with a mighty push. I tumbled back and smacked shoulders-first into a hardened, laboring chest, harsh breaths rained down over my head. It took me a handful of seconds to recognize Bull's arm around my waist, his voice in my ears, but I was still in the throws of a fucking conniption fit.

"You lousy fucking piece of gutter shit!" I snarled, nearly escaping Bull's hard hold. He held on tighter as I struggled. "I'll make good on my goddamn _promise,_ clown car, _wait until I get my hands on you!_ "

" _Boss!_ " Bull shouted desperately with a good shake of his arm to jar me free of my rage. " _Jaime_ , please!"

Ice cascaded down my back; _he's never called me by my name before. Oh, I'm so fucked._ My breathing came out in rapid, pained bursts, my neck hurting from the strain of slamming into Bull and my whole body from limb to limb was shaking with the effort to move. I was a rattlesnake in Bull's arms, vibrating with dripping fury and indignation.

Bull's arm tightened around my waist and kept my feet off the ground.

"Jaime," he was breathing hard, "calm down, boss, I got you. _Shit_."

"The Lord Seeker?" Barris watched as the demon howled at us and disappeared further into the fortress, the Templars within scattering momentarily as the Fade Fog dashed between them and seeped into the stonework.

"No," I exhaled, my voice rough from my yelling, "An imposter."

"That monster ensured we weren't prepared. I still don't know what we're up against." Barris led us inside, Bull tentatively dropped me to my feet and with a hesitant hand, offered me my forgotten maul. I took it without question, vastly and vehemently reassured not only to have it, but to grip it with my left hand. The Mark pulsed as it did with a rift, but it wasn't a distraction.

"It's an Envy demon." I pulled my maul up to rest on my shoulders, taking comfort from its weight. I couldn't spare a glance for my companions, I wasn't ready for what they saw in my fury. We needed to get through this first and I would deal with the repercussions later. Bull's voice echoing my name still rang through my ears and I pushed down the fright it stirred in me. What did he see, I wonder, when I came back into the world of the living?

"Envy? Maker." Barris shook his head, eyes closed in pain. "Then the real Lord Seeker is caged or dead."

I could only offer him a nod.

"It used the red lyrium to corrupt The Order, didn't it?" He snapped, mouth pulled back in anger. "I _knew_ that miserable stuff was risky!" Bull shouldered his maul as well. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Vivienne gently lay a hand on his shoulder and the cast of a healing spell, faint and weak, pass over him. Blackwall eyed me sideways and I ignored the searching look.

"They often give us new kinds of lyrium. Our Commanders... some used the red stuff first, to prove it was harmless." Barris shook his head, the corners of his mouth turned up in a quiet snarl. "The knights would've been next. That demon turned our leaders so we couldn't question when this started!"

"It's a clever liar, we know that now." I answered, my grip on my maul twisting the handle on my shoulder. "We're gonna have to bring the best for this one, we can't have anyone fall to its game." Barris' face hardened, jaw tight and he turned to one of his kin.

"Templar!" He called out, glaring them down. "What is Envy!"

"A coward!" She hollered back, teeth clenched. "It studies its prey while they dream, makes less mistakes, but most of all: it hides."

Barris nodded, green eyes flashing to me. "We need our veterans, our Commanders have turned, but the lieutenants may still be fighting." He paused, his brow tight with thought. "We'll hold the hall. You find the lieutenants and the untainted lyrium. Bring them here, _and I'll give you Envy_."

Had I not been reeling from my own personal trauma and revelations, I would have been utterly charmed by the speech. Such as it was, I had no time to waste swooning when there was a desperate fight to be had. With a glance to the group behind me, tired and sweating through their armor, I nodded to them and prompted them to follow. I took the first door closest to me out of the hall and into the surrounding yards.

We were immediately beset by a horde of demons and something new I hadn't encountered before. Though the creature appeared to be heavy enough to be encumbered by its own person, its legs brought it swiftly up to my face. Diabolical looking red stalagmites sheared through their shoulders and down their backs along their spines. Their faces were mutilated by the protrusions and their screams were muffled by the jutting crystals in their mouths.

The sight was more unsettling than any demon I had ever seen, because within all that ghoulish, gutted, gruesome deformity, I could see the frenzied eyes of a human. Hesitation only gripped me for a moment before my Mark pulsed and my maul automatically came away from my shoulder, catching the approaching creature in the shoulder as it dodged.

There was no sign of humanity in it anymore, and yet with every scream and howl it unleashed, my Mark caught the echoing undertones of a human's voice, crying out in terror. Tears sprung to my eyes unwittingly and I did my best to keep my aim true as I swung to fight them off. The creature was unrelenting and I was exhausted by my excursion into my thoughts, into my mind.

" _It's alright._ " Cole's gentle voice floated between my ears. " _Once you help them let go, they're free. It's alright. I'll follow them._ "

Merciful Maker, I hope he was right.

In the end, four of them went down and we managed to reach on of the lieutenants. She had been corned up against a stack of crates and was hastily making whatever small bombs she could with the supplies she had. We nearly lost Blackwall's head as she lobbed one at him in surprise. The path was clear and I gave her my small knife before she made a swift retreat back to the hall. As we ran back, something caressed my Mark.

It was so unlike the other violent sensations that I had with the damn thing that I nearly tripped over my own feet at the sensation. At my pause, the caress returned and something drew my eyes from my Mark to another door, a few meters away from the center of the yard. My feet jerked for a moment before I decided to approach, wondering what led me.

" _You need to see this._ " Cole's voice doubled over itself in my thoughts. " _Look to where the shadows lie and find the liar._ "

Entering the room was like stepping into a Jigsaw playground. A bust of the Empress Celene sat in the center of a table that was marred and stained by red lyrium and possibly blood. The walls were covered with frantic, wide eyes, all within arms' reach just above my head. Candles were lit and burning low, ready to set flame to the wooden table and straw that lay beneath it. With one deep inhale, I extinguished most of them.

Cole's hand appeared and took out the rest, making me jump.

" _The Elder One wants her dead, Empress Celene._ " He murmured, pointing to the parchment that was nailed into the bust. " _He hates her, haunts her, wants her dead, but hides why. He hid other things, too._ " There was a rattling sound behind me, the door being banged against the wall. For a second time, I nearly jumped right out of my skin and with a sharp glance, I spotted Bull at the door.

His expression held his features darkly, his brow heavy over his eye patch.

I took the signal for what it was, a warning of my weirdness, and continued on with them, snatching the note from the bust before running out. A hard swallow went down my throat and I dodged around Bull to get out the door. Vivienne and Blackwall were shoring up the yard to keep more demons from coming in after we locked the hall's door. We couldn't stop to help the Templars as Barris shoved me away when we attempted, and so onward we ran to the next lieutenant.

This fortress was massive and after four or five retrievals of lieutenants, I was ready to pass out. My temples felt ready to burst from the sides of my head, it was a fight trying to keep my eyesight level with the ground and my arms were starting to tremble. Though my endurance and strength were better now than they ever had been back at home, on Earth; I was not superhuman.

Blackwall and Vivienne looked to be straining as well. The Warden rested his forehead over the back of his hands that held his shield up and Vivienne relented to take one of the vials of lyrium Barris had offered her. Bull stayed with me, within arm's reach, and rested his back against a nearby structural pillar. The fighting in the yards had been cleared, the lieutenants back with their knights. All that remained was the demon.

"Boss," Bull murmured to me from behind. My head rose from the pommel of my maul where it rested and I blinked at him owlishly. The smallest tick of a smile touched his lips before it faded. "That... what you said back there. What happened? One minute you were running up the steps and then next... you were spitting fire."

 _You're frozen_ , Cole had explained.

Oh, fuck me. No wonder they were looking at me like I was bat-shit insane. Thoughts were faster than light or time could ever be, on the best of days. What felt like hours to me, dealing with the Envy demon in my own head, must have been no more than one instant to another for my companions. I had gone from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye.

"When we get home," I coughed, voice rough from dehydration, "remind me to tell you, m'kay?"

"Promise?" He didn't quite plead, but the echoes of it came through, his eyebrows pinched up in concern.

"I promise, big guy." I wiped at my own brow and flicked it off the back of my hand. Barris returned from prepping his knights for the oncoming fight, the last of them given the minimum amounts of lyrium to be useful and still have a supply left in case everything went to shit in a hand basket.

"Right," Barris pinned me with a hard look, "keep them off of us, we'll bring down this beast." All I could do was nod, the sheer effort felt like it would rip my head off. With a swallow, my gaze lingered on the Templars, Barris taking a lyrium-protected flask from one of his kin and he drank it with a kiss. A few others followed suit, their energy revitalized.

 _I see what Cullen means, that the Templars could help_. An undercurrent of energy thrummed through the hall, swords and shields echoed as they steadied together and lined up around the barrier that kept us out from the main courtyard that was at the back of the hall. My Mark hummed in my palm, the Templars raised their swords and together struck down.

Something sharp and vicious bit within my Mark, making it hiss and the Fade pocket within it lessened for a brief moment, dimming before coming back full force, snarling and pushing against the subduing ritual from the Templars. The Mark was raised up to my face and I watched, intrigued. The Mark pulsed with their chant, a counter to their efforts.

 _You don't like that, do you?_

I lowered my hand and took my maul. No need to be even crazier and start talking to my hand again. There was a quake that shook the walls and bits of the ceiling fell down around our feet. Slowly my gaze drew up to the barrier and watched as it weakened, another gaggle of demons fighting to make their way through.

"They just don't stop, do they?" Blackwall muttered darkly and heaved his shield up.

Tiredly, I chuckled. " _If your opponent is of choleric temper, irritate him._ "

"... Boss?" Bull asked, caught between amusement and exhaustion.

"It's from... something I heard a long, long time ago." The heel of my right palm rubbed at a spot between my eyebrows. "Basically, if he's a sore loser, let's piss him off."

"Wouldn't that just make him retaliate harder?" Blackwall countered, his sword drawn from its sheath once more.

Vivienne gave him a slow smirk. "Harder, perhaps, but with more mistakes."

"Let's see if he's still up for a dance." I stepped toward the weakening barriers, my companions behind me, and waited for the first to blow. It wasn't sudden, as you would think, the barrier gently peeled away, a ghostly drape that fluttered on a non-existent breeze. Barris and his Templars were behind us, their chants pulsing with each verse muttered. The first of the smallest demons came through, a withered and half-mangled Sloth.

It attempted to slither past me as it shot forward, but I was drained of any ability to care or to be cautious. My Mark reached out, fingers aglow with the Fade and snagged the yapping demon by the back of its robes. It howled at being caught, turning to face me with its one useful eye, but the Mark (either irritated by the chanting or strengthened by it) was quick to work.

The Sloth disintegrated in my hand, ashes swirling from my fingers. The numbness in my hand and arm was faint, but manageable. It was all I needed. With my maul swinging wide from the back of my hip, I launched forward. Bull came up with a hard lunge and broke ranks to smack into the barrier, his maul making short work of the first few demons. Vivienne's lightning shot around us, twittering like panicked birds and electrocuted whatever escaped The Iron Bull.

Blackwall and I were human, and stayed at the ready behind them, keeping our eyes open for the other barrier as it too began to fade away. It was moment more before he and I made a dash to the other side, allowing Vivienne and Bull to control the flow of battle on their end. Blackwall's shield came up as the first of the Sloths came through, followed by the Red Templars. My Mark growled with each swing, hissing against the handle of my maul. Numbness started to itch from my elbow up to my shoulder, but a cool, invisible hand stopped it.

" _I can hold it back, but not for long._ " Cole soothed and his gentle touch vanished.

 _You'll give me long enough, honey._ With my nerves renewed if not repaired, I continued on with Blackwall, hammering back the monsters as they drove into us, snapping and nicking their teeth and claws at our armor and trembling limbs. I tripped once or twice from my exhaustion, Bull or Blackwall pulling me to my feet. Left and right my Marked hand reached and ripped into what it could. It was useless against the Red Templars, but it was enough against the demons.

The last of the demons fell as the barriers that kept us out faded away completely. Barris and his men dropped to their knees, held up weakly by the grip on their swords. With what strength I could, my feet trotted over to them, catching Barris' shoulder. The man was drenched in sweat and his eyes blown wide.

"Th-there," he rasped, "get through, f-finish this."

My companions and I wasted no time. My maul was thrown onto my shoulder and we took the last of their small vials of healing potions before hurrying out from the main hall into the rear courtyard. The stonework was no better outside than it was inside, parts of the walls were already demolished and sections of the archways sagged in an effort to stay up. We came through down the stairs and in between two towering bronze statues of hooded mages, red lyrium clawing up from their feet.

The courtyard appeared empty, but I knew better. I stepped as close to the center as I could dare, my grip tight on my maul, and I waited. My Mark pulsed and demonic laughter reverberated throughout the yard. All three of my companions flinched from the sound and glanced about for its source.

- _I TOUCHED SO MUCH OF YOU. BUT YOU ARE SELFISH WITH YOUR GLORY. NOW I'M NO ONE._ -

"Join the fucking club, hot dog." I answered to the empty yard. A yowl echoed up from the ground under my feet and Bull reached for the scruff of my leathers to pull me back just in time as the demon breached from underneath, screaming and reaching for me.

" _Dark and desperate, death to make yourself alive._ " Cole flickered just out of the corner of my vision, but none of my companions reacted to him, their eyes on the demon. " _I used to be like you. I'm not anymore. You shouldn't be, either._ "

The demon shrieked at the vision of Cole before lunging at him. My body jerked as if to defend him, but Bull kept me tight against his chest, the vision of Cole disappeared from my sight with the demon tumbling through him. My throat swallowed reflexively as the featureless creature rounded on us.

"I don't have much magic left," Vivienne hissed at it, "but what I have, I saved for you, my _dear_."

It was the gunshot we needed. Bull and Blackwall rushed forward, leaving me behind. Vivienne's staff twirled over her head and slammed into the ground with the bulb tilted slightly toward the demon, a flare of electricity colliding with the demon and stunning it. Bull brought his maul over his head and roared as he brought it down with Blackwall herding it under the blow with his shield.

I kept my maul with me, even when I knew it would be useless. After the first blows, the demon screamed and dove into the ground like the Terrors were wont to do in poor circumstances. Blackwall and Bull immediately jumped away from the site of its disappearance and searched for it along the ground.

Vivienne and I got the retaliation. The creature came up under us again and before either one of us could dash out of the way, it gripped our ankles and dragged them into the earth. Vivienne hollered in anger and brought down the end of her staff to the hands that held her, a spark of fire lit up on contact and seared the skin nearly to black and boiling.

My leg was into the earth damn well up to my knee, the other bent behind me to keep me from going face first into the ground. There was a shout or a shriek that came out of my mouth, I could feel its hands claw at my leg and up my inner thigh and let me tell you, being felt up by a demon is the Ultimate Heebie-Jeebies.

Hard as I could, I attempted to yank my leg up out of the ground, but with every tug, the demon took the opportunity to shift me lower into the dirt. Blackwall came up like a shadow with his sword at the ready. He spared me a glance, worry flashing across his face before he gave a swift thrust and shoved the blade into the earth, inches from my leg.

The demon's hands released me and I scrambled like a madwoman to pull my leg free. Bull gave me a rough tug and hauled my ass upright. There was another crash behind me as more earth was thrown away as the demon came up a second time. Bull was ready for him and caught him across the face with his maul. Blackwall missed with a shield bash, but another lightning bolt from Vivienne stunned it long enough for the sword to come across its back.

Once more, it disappeared into the ground. Annoyed, my maul dragged across the ground and I sat where I stood, down onto my knees and hunched over my weapon, staring into the dirt.

"Boss!" Bull warned, but it was too late.

The demon took the bait.

- _I WILL HAVE YOU_ -

"Eat shit, hot dog." I growled. The demon burst from the ground, dirt flying right into my eyes, but I reached out with my Marked hand and managed to lodge my index finger and thumb into his gaping mouth. He bit down hard enough to get through my gloves and draw blood, my companions yelling behind me as he dragged me halfway into the earth.

With as much effort as I could, I focused on my Mark, willing my mystical weapon to believe the demon was a rift that needed to be shut. Fade green tendrils shot out along the demon's face and neck like jellyfish barbs and my ears were deaf to the frantic howling of the demon I held. Something gripped my hips and yanked me back to the surface.

I dragged that demon with me, and with the power of the Mark, his head stretched and cleared his body, a definite _snap_ sounded as the frail thread that held the demon within the living world was ripped, his body bursting into Fade sparks and fog.

A vicious grin flashed on my face. " _Told you_."

Time finally caught up to speed and in real time, I tumbled back with Bull, landing on my side with his twist, my right arm smashed into the ground. I winced and a groan escaped me, my arm throbbed hideously and my fingers were bleeding from my left hand.

"I," Bull growled as he leaned half over me, one arm braced to hold himself up and cage me in under him, "have had it up to _here_ with your fucking ideas."

There was a quite pause.

"Are we counting to the tips of the horns or...?" I murmured, hunched sheepishly.

" _Vashedan!_ " He growled at me before he shifted to a knee and stood up. "I won't have to kill you if you get out of control, you'll just do that _yourself._ "

"She is rather full of surprises." Blackwall groused, kneeling against his shield and sword. Bull rounded on him with a sharp eye before shaking his head. Vivienne walked over to me, or hobbled really, as she favored her ankle and dropped to her knees next to me, a gentle cast of healing touched my neck.

"Thanks, Viv." I murmured and sat up. An eyebrow twitched at the name, but she said nothing and merely gave me a gentle nod. There was the distant patter of footfalls and we looked up to see our Templars running to meet us. Barris stood before them, the lieutenants a careful distance behind, and his eyes found me swiftly.

He jogged toward me, a hand out. "The demon is dead. Andraste be praised: she shielded you from its touch." A series of snorts escaped all three of my companions, traitorous fucks. I was hauled to my feet and gingerly tested my weight on my ankle, but decided better against it. Vivienne's spell took most of the pain, but not all of it.

"We've numbers across Thedas, but we let this happen." Barris held me aloft with his hands on either side of my arms, his gaze intent on my face. "Our officers either failed to see it or were complicit. The Templars are ready to hear what the Inquisition needs of us." I held his gaze as best I could and gently pried myself from his hands to stand on my own.

Despite his earlier frustrations, Bull was promptly at my back, his chest pressed to my spine to give me the illusion of self-support as I stood.

"We need help with the Breach," I murmured to Barris. My gaze went over his shoulder, my voice higher. "If that thing over our heads doesn't scare you, you're braver souls than me."

"You speak truths we should have never ignored." Barris answered me, stepping closer to his kin. "But The Order is leaderless, gutted by betrayal. We must rebuild it." The Templars shifted behind him, guilt and shame clouded them, their eyes unable to look up and meet mine. I couldn't lose them, not now when my companions had gone through so much to get me here.

I took a step forward and had my feet take my full weight. With locked knees to keep them from trembling, I stepped past Barris to his brothers and sisters, facing them. Moments of silence swam between us as I searched for what I could say, what they would believe.

I decided to stick to the truth.

"I heard of the greatness of the Templars from Commander Cullen," I started, shifting closer. "Not of the battles against mages or the fights to keep demons at bay. I heard of The Order that, on name alone, brought peace to those fearful, that brought security to those weakest."

A few of their heads raised, others looked at me from under their brows, but the lieutenants faced me fully, helmets and battered faces level with my own. Weakly, I smiled at them, my exhaustion pushed just behind the surface.

"The Order is a symbol of respect and structure. We can't let that fade away." I paused as Barris came up to my side, eyes narrowed as he searched my face. My words turned to him, pseudo-leader that he turned out to be.

"The Inquisition offers you an alliance. Supplies, weapons, grounds to shelter you." I turned back to the Templars that stood before me, hands down my sides to keep from shaking. "All we ask is you help us close the Breach." The Templars that stood with us kept their silence, their gazes dancing between each other, my words hanging in the air. Barris took a side step away from me, his eyes focused on my face for a long breath before he nodded.

"The Order will accept, Herald." He commanded, loud enough for his kin to hear. "We'll march with the Inquisition. We much finish up here before we leave. See that your stronghold is prepared to receive us." Ser Barris saluted me with a strong arm and bowed his head to me when I returned the gesture. My heart slammed up into my ribs as I watched them walk away, back into the crumbling, dying fortress. A new silence fell over us and it wasn't until the doors groaned shut that I collapsed to my knees.

"Boss?" Bull stepped over to me, his shadow just along my side.

"I'm going to throw up." I answered, surprised.

I proceeded to do so.

* * *

 **Note:** _Holy hell. We finally made it to the first ending of the game. Christ, this was a journey for me. Hopefully we'll get to the next leg of the story soon. Please make sure to follow and favorite the story or me to keep on the updates. Not sure if Act II is going to be a separate entity or continued to be posted here. Also, snippets are to be posted soon. If you got any scenarios you'd like to see, let me know._

 _Once again, thank you to all those who stayed, reviewed, and followed me to the end of this. Whether you were here from the start or just found it, I hope you enjoyed the work and continued to come back for more!_

 _Love you guys, truly._


	28. ACT II: Opposition In All Things

**ACT II:** _Opposition In All Things_

* * *

 _On to Act 2!_

* * *

"Was it wise to allow The Order to continue under its own power?" Leliana posed the question to the open room as we stood around the War Table. The back of my eyeballs were burning from snow blindness and my legs had turned into petrified tree-trunks with our hard march back home to Haven. I had not trusted The Order not to run from me, so it had taken near a week to collect a majority of their veterans to have Cullen and the Inquisition forces escort them to Haven.

The absolute statistical _nightmare_ that resulted from the sudden influx of people into a small, pilgrimage-only area had set more than just my own teeth on edge. Josephine had been seconds from stripping me of rank, title, and my first layer of epidermis had Leliana not predicted my scheming and swooped in with a battle-plan.

Tents had been rearranged, what remained of the Chargers who hadn't gone to the Hinterlands went into overdrive clearing more grounds and trees, Chantry Sisters and Mothers smothered those who came in with wounds or ill-effects, and I was popped like a zit, tossed to the outskirts of Haven in the hopes I didn't get trampled.

As stated before: a fucking nightmare.

"We're not keeping them," I answered her after a beat of silence. The room around me was frosty at best, with Cullen and Josephine less-than-peachy at the idea of Templars running amok, unchecked and unleashed.

"See that we don't." Cullen replied testily, his hand tight on the pommel of his sword. "The Order will be needed once this Breach is closed, to maintain peace and boundaries."

"Between who, precisely?" Leliana murmured with a gentle threat, Cassandra and she pinned Cullen with a hard look. "Because of our little venture to Therinfal Redoubt, the mages have vanished from Redcliffe Village."

"What the fuck is that about, anyway? How do a hundred-odd people just disappear?" I countered with my hands leaning against the table top. "Please, anyone, I will take farfetched theories at this point."

"No one knows." Josephine injected with a click of her teeth, annoyance clear. "Reports have come in that King Alistair had mustered his army enough to drive them out so his people could be at peace when –"

"He arrived to find the village abandoned." Cullen interrupted. Josephine scrunched her nose at him. The last thing I needed was the Heads starting to nip at each other, so I raised my hand to placate Josephine briefly. Cullen caught the gesture and tipped his head apologetically, and continued.

"There hasn't been a single sighting of the mages since you left. The Magister gone with them, as well." Cullen sighed and brought his other hand up to rub at the lower part of his face, scratching at his scruff. "It's all very strange and quite possibly, a good sign for danger. They could be anywhere."

"Doubtful." Cassandra growled, her lips as tight as the arms across her chest. "They must have heard the Herald had gone to retrieve the Templars and fled for fear she would bring them to Redcliffe to subdue them."

"I mean, technically," I interjected with a wiggling finger, "that was exactly the idea, but not like, forcibly. I wasn't going to chain them down or shit like that, I just wanted to make them see reason."

"Dangerous words, Herald, but I understood your point." Leliana replied with a raised brow. "Either way, as it stands, we must now decide what our best course of –" A sharp, small soundwave burst from the center of the table, knocking all of us back to our heels. Smoke whipped up and twirled in the air before vanishing as a form appeared within it.

"The Templars are getting impatient, they don't like to wait." Cole's voice was firm in the surprised silence of the room, his echo gone from my thoughts long after we had left Therinfal Redoubt. I had almost been willing to think I had imagined the sorrowful boy.

"Maker!" Cullen hissed, and the sound of swords singing from their sheaths entered my ears.

"Wait, wait!" I shouted desperately, leaping into a sit on the surface of the tabletop, knocking over figurines as Cassandra and Cullen came around the other side and brandished their swords. Leliana had fallen away to the shadows of a high candelabra with Josephine somehow teleporting herself to the door – _how the fuck she get over there so fast?_

"I came with you to help. I would have told you before, but you were busy." Cole murmured sadly into my ear, his chin inches from my shoulder, the brim of his hat over my head and tipped to one side. I exhaled and held a hand to my chest, reaching up with my other hand to pat his cheek.

"Th-that's fine, Cole, you just – scared the crap outta us." Another gusty sigh. "Christ, you guys."

"Do not give me that," Cullen chastised with narrowed eyes, "when _he_ appeared out of thin air!"

"I wasn't air," Cole retorted softly, shaking his head, "I was here. You didn't see me. Most people don't until I let them."

"Call the guards!" Cassandra growled over to Josephine, the golden woman wide eyed with bewilderment. "This creature is not what –"

"A moment please, Cassandra." Leliana interrupted with curiosity lacing her words. She stepped forward from her shadow, the brief glint of her knife flashing as she hid the blade away. "I would like to hear why he came."

"You help people." Cole's attention was honed on me as I turned to look at him, his eyes shimmering between the colors of blue, green, and brown. His hat mussed my hair as he slid past me to stand. "You made them safe when they would have died." Surprisingly, Cole held his hand out to me and without a thought, I took it with my Marked hand.

"I want to do that." He gripped my fingers firmly. "I can help." The minute pain of the Mark, the constant pulse and throb that I had grown accustomed to, faded for a small, heavenly moment. It returned when he let go of my hand and I was back to standing among my council.

"Cole saved my life in Therinfal," I mumbled, amazed by the shift of his eyes, "I couldn't have defeated Envy without him." Gently, I turned my gaze away from Cole to Cassandra, shoulders square and mouth firm.

"But what does he want _now_?" Cassandra accused, her sword raised slightly.

"Cassandra, I think he really _is_ trying to help." I reached out and attempted to lower her sword with the palm of my hand. Foolish, perhaps, knowing how sharp those things were. Cassandra knew exactly that and quickly lowered her weapon so I wouldn't slice my hand on the blade.

Cole lowered his head and folded his hands. "I won't be in the way. Tiny, no trouble, no notice taken unless you want them to."

"You're not honestly suggesting we give him run of the camp?" Cullen demanded lowly, coming up to my side. His hand rose to take my elbow, but the Commander thought better of it and lowered his hand into a fist at his side.

"Not… freely, perhaps." Josephine straightened her skirts by the door, voice clear. "But it seems a waste to – hold on!" All five of us blinked at the space that Cole had occupied, now devoid of the boy or his body. A hand rose to my mouth to smother a laugh as Cassandra and Cullen glanced about, swords high.

"Where did he go?" Cassandra fretted.

"He's… probably still here, if his words were anything to go by." I glanced about as well, curious. There was a gentle touch to the palm of my Marked hand and I grinned; _I was right_.

"In any case." Leliana refocused us. "He seems… attached to the Herald. Hopefully this will lessen any trouble he may cause."

"Hopefully." Cullen grumbled, sheathing his sword with a click. "The Herald is a handful on her own."

I blinked at the Commander. "Was that a pun?"

" _Maker_."

-0-

The noise level within Haven had risen since the arrival of the veteran Templars. With the addition of them to our ranks, it was critical now that the Breach be closed as soon as possible before their fellows arrived. Josephine and Varric could only do so much to maintain the quantity of our supplies for so long. I had been dismissed from the War Room as Leliana and Cullen devised their plan to get me, the Templars, and Bull's Chargers up to the Temple of Sacred Ashes safely.

The conversation didn't need me, as my focus was solely to prepare for the hard march and fight that I had ahead of me to seal the Breach. If it was anything like the other rifts I had sealed in times past, then the biggest of them was going to hurt the most ( _possibly kill me_ ). My first stop was to Solas, I hiked my way through the fresh snow to my companion's cabin. Ducking around the storage and past Adan's cabin, I came upon the sight of my elven friend seemingly waiting for me.

With his arms crossed.

 _Fuck, someone told him._

I raised my hands, exasperated. " _Who?_ "

"Your Qunari." Solas answered just as quickly, non-existent brow dug deep over his eyes. "You didn't honestly think he wouldn't tell _someone_ about your incessant need to be reckless, did you?"

"Who the fuck," I grumbled with slumped shoulders, "that ass is supposed to be on _my_ side."

"And thank the heavens he is," Solas turned on his heel to reach his door, gesturing for me to walk inside, "otherwise, you'd be dead twice over. What part was misunderstood that you were _not_ to use the Mark as a weapon, Jaime?"

"I understood, alright." I cranked at him, flopping onto the edge of his bed, my hands falling to my lap as I peered at him. "But you should've _seen_ this fucker, Solas. It wasn't like he was gonna just stand still and let me have a shot, goddamn whack-a-mole that he was."

Solas very carefully pinched the bridge of his nose. "I understood half of that."

"This creature moved like a centipede, Solas." I clarified, my hands wrung together. "He had, like, six arms and no neck and the body of a left-a-long-time-ago torture victim. He burrowed into the ground and then reached up to drag our asses under it."

"And your best course of action was to stare it in the face and call it, what was it? – _A hot dog?_ " Solas sighed with deep frustration, but hearing the words 'hot dog' out of his mouth had me cackling despite the severity of the situation.

"This is not a laughing matter, Jaime."

"Dude, the fact that the words _hot dog_ came outta your mouth is just – priceless." I continued to snicker even as the poor egghead stormed deeper into his cabin and pulled open his drawer within his desk. He reached inside and retrieved a well-worn journal and came back to me, eyes and mouth stern as stone.

He dropped the journal by my hip on the bed. "It will kill you."

 _And just like that,_ I thought bitterly.

"What's this?" I took up the journal and paged through the first and second leaflets, skim-reading through Solas' elegant and swift handwriting. Though my reading comprehension had improved significantly, reading quickly was a continuous struggle.

"My studies." He exhaled and took the stool from his fireplace. "While you have been away, I have been making trips up to the Breach to study it."

"I figured." I mumbled, reading through a small section. "Looks like you were… comparing my experiences with the smaller rifts to this big one. What were you looking for?" I glanced up at him, confused. It was unlikely that he could have found much, as my only encounter with the Breach's rift had been brief, and I had passed out soon afterward.

Solas gave me a bored blink, and I caught up.

"Oooh." I answered breathlessly. "Right, I _did_ pass out. I managed to seal it, but at the cost of fainting."

"It wasn't merely that you fainted, Jaime." Solas began, voice quiet and serious. "When Cassandra and I brought you back to Haven, you were on the brink of death. Adan was absolutely sure you were going to die."

"From fainting?" I squeaked, alarmed at the idea. Passing away in your sleep was something, hopefully, you did when you were old. The journal's pages crinkled in my hands and Solas reached forward to soften my grip, but didn't take the journal from me.

"From _exhaustion._ " Solas said plainly, gaze nailed to my face. "You fainted from extreme exhaustion. Everything had been taken from you, life and soul. There was not much of your spirit left when we attempted to heal you."

The journal trembled in my hands, tears welling up in my eyes. "Wh… what happened? I m-mean, obviously I woke up – what happened?" Solas sighed and pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead, a human gesture that I hadn't seen from him before, even in his most exasperated moments. A new low for him, I was sure.

"It is why I had requested that you stop using the Mark. Little by little, you are draining your life away to seal these rifts." He explained, and then reached over and tapped at the journal's edge. "Every time your arm goes numb, you are expending life force to physically close a tangible field of energy. You're repairing these rifts in the Veil, not forcing them shut."

Suddenly, Edward Elric's voice flashed through my head. "... equivalent exchange."

"Yes, precisely." Solas replied in surprise, eyes momentarily wide. "I – well. I suppose something similar to this would exist in your world."

"Not quite," I choked. "How… is there any way to tell how much I've lost already?"

Solas shook his head, solemn. "No, unfortunately. I cannot even judge the extent of how much life-force you use, as the numbing varies from rift to rift, does it not?"

"It does." I answered softly. "The… the time at Fallow Mire was the worst, but there was no rifts there."

"No, but there _were_ demons." Solas continued studiously. "My theory is that you are expending energy, life energy, to forcibly remove these rips _and_ demons. Here." He reached for his journal and I held it out to him with a limp hand. He switched from his stool over to the bed, sitting next to me and turning to a page with drawings of Sloths and Terrors, along with weapons for my closest companions.

"When we use our weapons to dispel these spirits, we're not actually hurting them." He pointed to a drawing he had made of Despair, both solid and as if it was fading away. "What we are doing is – with each blow we land, they must in turn use energy, Fade or otherwise, to remain corporal."

"They only have so much, here in this reality." I breathed weakly, shaking at the similarity Solas was attempting to explain.

"Exactly." Solas nodded, a small, terse smile on his face. "Spirits, even demons, don't actually _die_ , as we do. They simply disperse and reform back in the Fade, as that is where their energy is strongest."

"Conservation of mass." I murmured thoughtfully, looking down at the page. Solas frowned at me, his head tilted slightly with a twitch of his ears, curiosity piqued for a second.

"If you would explain, please." Solas asked gently. "Context suggests much, but clarification would be appreciated."

"The law of conservation of mass, it's…" I struggled, trying to recall my college science classes. "Uh, simply put; mass is constant despite the forms it changes into." He blinked at me, expecting me to continue, and so I struggled to continue. "So, basically, mass or matter cannot be created or destroyed, it just… is. It exists always in the same quantity, but can be in different forms… I think?"

"Interesting." Solas stood and moved over to his desk with his journal in hand, taking a quick seat. He pulled his inkwell and quill close, his hand sharp as he jotted down more notes on the next blank page. I remained on the edge of his bed, my hands empty and fingers touching, resting in my lap.

"... you really think this is going to kill me?" I asked into the silence, quiet and trembling.

The scratch of Solas' quill paused. "In theory? … Yes. It should kill you. But with the Templars to help…"

"Would it kill them?" I immediately asked, terrified at the thought. After I had promised them sanctuary from their most recent hell, this tasted viciously of betrayal. My heart raced in my chest, "If it's gonna just exchange their lives for mine, then we can j-just fucking forget it!"

"Jaime," Solas attempted to assuage me, "if we can seal the Breach this way –"

"Don't!" I nearly shouted. "D-don't – don't give me that _it's good math_ bullshit!" My fingers laced together and gripped my palms tight against their opposite, my wrists trembling from the effort to keep the rest of my body from shaking. I hunched over my hands slightly, my eyes shut but swelling as I fought back tears. I couldn't do that to them, I couldn't lead them to death. If expending the whole of my energy to seal the Breach and they could go home...

Solas stood from his desk and came toward me, his hand resting on my head. "... sometimes I forget how young you are."

"I'm almost thirty," I spat weakly.

"Almost is not quite thirty." He replied with a small, sad chuckle. "Here, none of that. Chin up – where's your handkerchief?"

"Why is it mine?" I sniffed wetly, releasing my hands and using the back of my wrist of one to swipe at my snotty nose. "Isn't it yours?"

"Yes, well." He found it at the bottom drawer of his nightstand and gave it to me. I took it and wiped at my face. "Considering that you've contaminated it thoroughly, I consider it yours."

"You're sweet," I joked bitterly. My eyes were cleared of their preemptive tears. "A jackass, but sweet." A long silence dragged between us. Solas left me to my clean up, the previous conversation dead in the air. He placed more logs into his fireplace and shifted the old ones around. I folded up my handkerchief and placed it away at the bottom of his drawer. _Take that, you nerd_.

For the moment, I was appeased.

"Have you met Cole yet?" I asked into the empty air, grasping at something that wasn't talk of my damnation into hell. Solas turned to me from his fireplace and opened his mouth to speak before he snapped it shut, eyes wide.

I chuckled, the tingle in my palm lessening. "Cole, you can't keep doing that, buddy."

"But you asked if he met me yet," Cole replied, utterly confused. His hat tilted and he glanced between us, his hands fidgeting at his sides. "I heard it, in your head, you wanted him to meet me. I was already here."

"How… extraordinary." Solas breathed, standing from his haunches and stepping toward us slowly, as if he would spook Cole with any other faster movement. "You're… a corporeal spirit? How?"

"I am because I wanted to be." Cole replied simply, as if the knowledge of manifestation was common. "I didn't want to be what I was, so I decided to be what I am."

"Indeed." Solas was within arms' reach of us now, his focus intent on Cole. "And you named yourself Cole?" Cole hesitated, shifting his weight on his heels from one side to another, contemplating his answer.

"Yes." He finally said. "And no. I am Cole, because I was already Cole when I became who I am." Solas glanced at me in the hopes of some sort of explanation. Flippantly, I shrugged with upturned hands. _Who knows_ was all I could convey, because rightly, I had as much of a shot understanding Cole as I did Sera.

Who I hadn't spoken to in _weeks_. Fuck.

"So how about this." I stood with a clap of my hands on my knees. "You two have a nice chat, I gotta go make the rounds if I'm going to die."

"You won't die." Cole replied, dauntless. "You're not meant to die."

"I… have no idea how to take that." I muttered, stepping through Solas' door with a sure-foot forward. The door closed behind me and the pulse in my hand was back. The palm was brought up closer in my vision; Cole was very skilled in hiding from the Mark, or manipulating it. Perhaps that was the reason he was so assured of my safety.

I wish I had his confidence.

I walked down toward the small tavern in Haven, but upon seeing the Templars crowding around the door, singing along to whatever it was that Maryden was playing, I decided otherwise. It was a lame excuse, but going in puffy-eyed into a crowded and loud tavern just didn't sound like fun. It wasn't like the bars back home, dim lighting would not save me here.

Varric was missing from his place by his fire and tent. Poking my nose around, one of the runners told me he had made his way up to the Chantry, more than likely to speak with Josephine and discuss the running of supplies. We were dangerously low and our ability to feed both soldiers and civilians was becoming precarious.

I moved on toward the front gate and took a few nervous paces before deciding to walk through. Bull had wanted to talk, wanted the story of what happened with the Envy demon, but now in the face of it, I was hilariously apprehensive. Qunari liked demons all the less than magic, and as I had contended with one toe-to-toe, there was no telling what he would think of me now.

Would he think I was possessed? Would he think, even after defeating the demon, that something remained? Christ, there was no knowing with Bull, and considering that I had already angered him with my antics during battle, it was a toss-up as to what kind of welcome I was expecting once I reached his tent. It was a minute more or so before some of the merchants were giving me concerned side-eyes and I turned to make my way down toward the tent.

Krem wasn't at his usual post, away perhaps with the rest of the Chargers and finishing with their own preparations (and rehoming, since the veterans were becoming demanding children). Bull stood, as always, at the mouth of his tent and his gaze leveled on me as I approached. His head tilted for a moment before he sighed and ducked inside of his tent, holding the flap open for me.

 _Shiiiiit. I'm in so much trouble._

I walked in past his arm and spooked to one side as he let if fall behind us. A thick swallow was forced down my throat and I busied myself with glancing around the small space. The tent was tall enough to allow Bull enough room with a small hunch to his back, his horns cleared of snagging. A tiny table at one end, and I noticed there was no cot, only a straw-and-cotton bedroll on the ground.

Viciously, my mind brought up the giggling words of the Chantry sister and I rattled my brain angrily before taking a seat on a small crate closest to the tent flap. Bull dropped himself onto the bedroll, careful of his ankle, and folded his legs. He looked up at me with a raised eyebrow and I found myself inexplicably frozen.

"Everything alright up in that head of yours?" Bull asked neutrally. I could hear his attempt at a casual start to the conversation, but I had a hand at being paranoid over how people treated me. The classic Hot-Potato method of passing around the anxious person was not unknown to me.

"Yeah, we're solid." I said cryptically. There was a spasm on his right eye and I chuckled. " _I_ am, Bull, yeah. Chill, dude."

His expression pinched at my choice of words. "So, you promised me a story."

"Usually that kind of line is reserved for bedtime." I replied reflexively, my deflecting mechanism kicking in, but it backfired on me spectacularly as both of his brows rose higher on his forehead. I pointed a warning finger at him, "Ack, no, don't go there. That's not what I meant."

"Right," he chuckled, his shoulders relaxing. "Let's try this again: what happened back there, boss?"

"Where do I fucking start?" I raised my hands and let them drop to my knees, palms up. "Do we start where I started hearing a voice in my head, or do we start where I ended up stuck in my own mind or – you tell me, big guy."

"Let's start with the voice." Bull acquiesced with a nod of his head. "When I got to you, you were shaking like a leaf. Was it just one voice?"

"One voice was enough, dude, trust me." I complained, rubbing my thumb into the glowing spark of my palm. "I swear, it sounded like he was coming over a loudspeaker – a device that amplifies voices, sorry – and it just… hurt."

"I noticed." He replied carefully. "You dropped like a dead duck, and that scream – sounded like someone somehow managed to bring you down."

A weak laugh came up, "What, worried for me?"

"Shouldn't I be?" He fired back. That shut me right up and sheepishly, I ducked my gaze back down to my hand, excusing my silence as I worried over the Mark with my thumb. _Chill, Jaime, he doesn't mean anything by it_. He sighed heavily and leaned onto an upturned arm, chin in his hand and elbow on his knee.

"If you want me to keep trusting you, you need to talk to me." Bull prodded lightly. "Because from my end, all I saw was you go from Jaime into monster in the blink of an eye."

I shuddered at the imagery. "I wasn't possessed, if that's what you're asking."

"You almost were." He retorted quietly.

"Almost isn't the same as actual." I chuckled again, paraphrasing Solas' earlier words. My head feel back and I closed my eyes, feeling the burn come up again behind my eyelids. With raised hands, I rubbed at my sockets and sighed, doing anything I could to buy myself time to explain.

To think up an explanation, at least.

"Envy demon, we understand the general concept, yes?" I asked, bringing my head back down to him slowly. He nodded, waving at me with his free hand to continue. "Right, so. It wanted to be me, and I'm pretty sure it almost succeeded, had I not had Cole or my piss-poor attitude."

"I'm going to be honest," Bull interrupted gently, "that – thing, boy? – worries the crap out of me."

"Spirit," I corrected absently, "and join the club, he worries everyone else but Solas. And me."

"He's not much different than the Envy demon, Boss." Bull rolled his wrist, waving his hand to enunciate his wording. "Demon, spirit – not living, as far as anyone knows. And he can get inside your head, he's proven that already."

"Well, yeah, but he didn't muck with anything in there." I pouted, offended on Cole's behalf. Granted, I had known Cole for less than a month, but one didn't go through a personal hell with someone and not come out attached at the hip because of it. Cole was – is, special. He was to me, to be honest.

"How could you know? Demons are good at twisting your thoughts to make you want things you've never wanted before." Bull was damningly good at playing the Devil's Advocate and though usually I admire the play on it, it was starting to itch in this conversation.

I exhaled, settling my nerves. "I know, because it didn't – neither he nor the Envy demon could see my memories before Thedas." My words brought him to a full stop, his green-blue eye narrowing at me, his shoulders stiffening again.

"... none of them?"

"None," I shook my head, gently slipping from the crate down to the floor, my leg stretched out, the sole of my boot nearly to his bent knee. "Envy was pulling memories from, like – the first day, you know? When Cassandra had me in shackles and all that, but… he wasn't using anything else."

"One would think; if he wanted to _be_ you, he'd be better prepared by using earlier memories." Bull speculated, running his thumb over his cheek thoughtfully. "Maybe he decided on just using your memories from when you became the Herald?"

"Then he's a shitty imposter." I quipped. "People change over time, yeah, but who we are – our core responses – are all reactions that stem from our earliest experiences, and those are hard to change."

"True, I'm not going to argue that with you." Bull waved his hand to pacify me. "All I'm saying is: consider it. Anything that gets into your head that isn't _yours_ is dangerous."

"Like Re-educators?" I blurted, waspish that he was taking swipes at Cole. A wince hit my face the second those words flew out of my mouth because I _knew_ better than to throw shade like that. Bull paused and gave me one solid blink before sighing and nodding.

"Right." He groused. "Like them – so, after that?" I hesitated, worried now at the figurative eggshells that now lay before me. Gently, I reached for my wrist and rolled it in my grip, popping the joint softly.

"It kept talking to me, trying to distract me, I guess." I shrugged a shoulder. "All the way up to the entrance. There, when I got in reach – the Lord Seeker, Envy, he grabbed me and poof, I had an out-of-body experience."

Bull tilted his head. "What do you mean? You were still there."

"Oh, sure, _physically_." I noted, nodding my head with a sarcastic tint to my words. "But mentally? I checked right out and was transported who the fuck knows where. It was smoky and misty and green, like a badly colored dungeon." Bull leveled me with a serious look, but kept his mouth tightly shut. Worried, but not overly so to stop my explanation, I continued, but quiet and much more aware of the words that flew out of my mouth.

"It showed me visions, of Cullen, Josephine – Leliana, even. Tried to… get me to react to situations, things I could hear in the memories. It was inventing things, trying to spook me, I think." I rubbed at my wrist again and released it once the skin went red, my gaze flickered between my lap and Bull's face, nervousness and anxiety rippled through me.

"It's a classic tactic." Bull murmured quietly, chin back in his hand. "It's one of the ways you can root out spies, putting them in stressful situations makes their instinct take over. Civilians don't know how to dodge a knife."

I winced. "Lovely."

"Honest." Bull countered.

"Anyway," I exhaled, my palms together in my lap, the toes of my boot stretching slightly to see if I could touch his knee. "It was… exhausting. It kept trying to draw me into answering him, gettin' a rise out of me, but… like I said, my piss-poor attitude –"

"The demon wasn't expecting you to deflect so much. Your anxiety got to you, did it?" Bull graced me with a tiny, amused smirk. It did all the wrong things, my face heated up like a red balloon, my ears felt like they were going to curl into themselves and I was painfully aware of how small this fucking tent was, Jesus H. Christ.

"Hey, we don't talk about it like it's a real thing, I told you." My toes _could_ reach his knee, and I tapped it to make my point. "But… yeah. And with Cole, he helped me realize where I was, in my own head, and there's no greater maze than my thoughts."

"That's for sure." Bull teased gently, his smirk widening slightly.

The flush reached the end of my neck. "B-but, after that, it was… easier. Not easier, just less painful. Still exhausting, though. Demons and people spawning in my thoughts, trying to frighten me."

"How did you get out?" Bull ventured. "Because, like I said, you came out spitting-mad."

"Because I _was_ mad. I was pissed from here to high heaven." I quipped, mouth at a slant. "I had just wasted – what felt like to me – a lot of fucking time trying to chase his ass down. When I finally got to him –"

"Wait," Bull faltered, "you _what?_ You chased it? The demon?"

I blinked, my hands bouncing once in my lap. "Well. Yes? Duh, what the fuck else was I supposed to do?" The _look_ Bull had given me just then, so reminiscent of a cat's prowling stare that I hesitated with continuing. Had I said something wrong? Weird? What did I miss? Surely that alone wasn't enough of a red flag?

"What?" I demanded, shoulders hunched. Bull brought his hand up to his eyes and rubbed a hard knuckle into his good eye, wincing hard and sighing heavily, as if attempting to expel his own lungs from his body. He shook his head with a sharp inhale.

"Nothing, continue. You caught it, then? That's why you came back?" Bull concluded, his eye sharp on my face. Personally, this felt more like an interrogation than a conversation, but I supposed that made sense. He was looking to confirm that I wasn't possessed, only insane.

"Not necessarily." I muttered, my eyebrows dancing on my forehead. "It wanted to try again, wanted to put me through more pain to get the best of me. I wasn't going to have that shit, so I shanked him." Bull shook his head again and muttered something under his breath, possibly in Qunlat because even at our proximity to each other, I couldn't understand it.

"And _that_ brought you back?" Bull replied.

"Yeah." I murmured with a shrug, my boot-toe at his knee again. "Envy had already stretched itself thin trying to trap me, it didn't have anything else once I got a hold of him." A few heartbeats passed between us, a gentle silence that breathed easily and for the time, I felt relieved.

And then I remembered he snitched on me. I nudged his knee hard, pouting.

"Asshole, you told Solas about the arm thing again." There was no heat to my anger. I understood why he had done it, but that he had gone around my back to do it, or didn't wait for me to tell Solas first hurt more than I thought it would.

"I wasn't sure you were going to tell him." Bull confirmed my suspicions. "You usually don't. I – look. I'm not going to play the Blackwall card on you, but… I understand his concern. You're a bit…"

"Reckless?" I suggested. He graced me with a tired sigh. I chuckled, "Yeah, okay… I can see it, too. I'm sorry."

"No need to tell me you're sorry." Bull assured me, rubbing at his ear and base of his horn. "You didn't hurt me. I just want to make sure you're thinking these things through, Boss. We don't know what the consequences are."

I shuddered, my innards trembling as I realized Solas hadn't told him what I recently learned; my life being drained away by the Mark. Seconds dashed by as I wrestled with what to tell him, if I were to tell him anything. Realization struck hard; I wouldn't be able to share this with Blackwall, or Vivienne, or even Varric. The Hydra Heads? Forget it. Bull, though, was someone I wanted to tell, desperately.

Instead, I smiled, nodding my head. "I got ya, we'll just have to be careful from now on."


	29. ACT II: They Who Stand

**ACT II:** _They Who Stand_

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 **Note:** _We broke 100 reviews! Woohoo! Thank you all who continue to come back. Please enjoy the next chapter!_

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"Ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, Cassandra."

Ten months. Ten solid, anxiety-ridden, hair-pulling, vomit-producing months, and here we were, at the mouth of what remained from the crumbling Temple of Sacred Ashes.

I was fucking shaking in my boots. Cassandra stood behind me as she commanded our Templars. Shouted orders and last second changes flew behind me as our company hurried to finish their preparations. This was going to be it, we had made our last march up to the Temple and all that was left was to close the Breach. The mouth of the rift hovered above the ground and over a broken pillar just before us, the demolished temple rang hollow with the thundering footfalls of the soldiers and Templars as they hastily moved to surround the rip and prepare for our attempt.

The Breach hung above the rift, high in the sky and swirling with its pulsing greenish, brackish light. Clouds circled the pillar of light that connected the rift to its breach far above, they faded as they drew closer to the ground, dispersing in the faint breeze that had followed us up from Haven. Solas appeared just beyond the peripheral of my vision, his nose and forehead the only things I could truly see. My shaking grew harder under my armor, my maul rattled a bit in its holster.

"Jaime?" Solas called to me, soft and curious.

"Cold," I dismissed him, "that's all."

Lies, honestly. Much more than cold riddled me, but there was no sense in having the same discussion over and over again. With a sidestep, Solas' profile entered my vision and he sighed, his gaze drawn up like mine to the Breach and its rift. More Templars filed in behind us, Cassandra at the head. My eyes closed and a strange sensation of burning could be felt behind my eyelids. Mouth dry as a desert and nose about to break off my face from the bitter wind, I turned to Cassandra, shoulders back and chin level.

"Templars!" I hollered to them, my voice echoing through the ruins. Above my level were the glinting, armored shadows of Bull's Chargers Mercenary Company, the last line of defense should this whole thing go to shit. They stood ready with their barrels of pitch and torches, prepared to rain fire if the sealing of the rift went foul.

"This ends today!" I continued, my eyes cast down to the helmets that turned toward me. "Let the nightmare fall back from Thedas with us!" Cheers and roars thundered with swords battered against their shields. The muscles of my throat tightened around my voice-box. Cassandra's words hung heavy from my mouth, but she had been right: it was exactly what needed to be said.

I saluted them with my fist across my chest and they answered with a solid ring of their swords clanking against their shields again. My teeth were hurting, my ears were ringing something awfully and it was all I had in me not to buckle over my knees as I walked the path down toward the center of the Temple, closer to the rift. Solas and Cassandra followed me, my other companions left behind in the safety of Haven.

 _I hope this works._

Templars filed around me as planned, their power honed and focused onto a single spot. Hopefully Solas' theory proved only partially true, that with their strength it would be enough to repair the rift and close the Breach without actually having anyone die on me. Without myself dying in the process, if it could be helped, but Solas and I had kept that dark secret between us. There were too many variables between the leaders of the Inquisition and my own companions to think that there would be an easy, clear-cut decision on whether I was to be sacrificed over the Templars.

Guilt gnawed at my stomach, knowing that I walked away from my people without telling them the whole truth, that I could in all actuality die and they would not understand why I had. My eyes found the shrouded faces of the Templars as I walked past them, each one solid and real, their expressions held tight in the face of the nightmare before us. I wonder if Cullen had told them what to expect? What _could_ they expect in this unknown?

Finally, my trek brought me to the floor of the Temple, my Mark pulsed in time with the Breach and I realized it always had. It wasn't mimicking the beat of my heart, it only seemed to, but it had really been keeping time with its creator. A shiver ran down through my legs at the thought, but I pushed forward and stood before the pillar, staring up into the sky.

Hands touched either side of my shoulder blades and with a glance over, Solas and Cassandra came into sight. They both nodded, with Cassandra squeezing my shoulder in reassurance. My jaw trembled, but I blinked to hold back tears. Cassandra would never realize what had happened, if I died here. She wouldn't know and suddenly I feared the guilt she would burden herself with, if it happened. I glanced back to Solas, his own gaze on Cassandra until he felt my own and met my eyes.

He nodded, as if he understood my silent plea.

I walked forward, closer, as they both turned to the Templars.

"Templars!" Cassandra roared, her voice carrying like rolling thunder.

"Focus past the Herald!" Solas followed her, bellowing into her storm. "Let her will draw from you!"

That was my cue. With a hard swallow, I took another step forward and I must have crossed some sort of barrier because the Mark flared to life in a way it hadn't before. The light sparked and glowed, brightening like a comet from the sky, glistening and glinting through my fingers without warning. A hard, trembling pulse quaked up from my palm into my arm, hammering into my shoulder joint and it pushed me back on a heel.

Grunting, I gritted my teeth and raised my palm to the sky, a screeching howl reached my ears, screams and sobbing voices rolled over each other, fighting for space in my head. My eyes shut and I forced another foot forward, the tether of the Fade formed between my palm and the rift, but unlike the tug-of-war I was accustomed to, this one was pushing.

My feet were sinking into the dirt and broken gravel ground of the Temple. The roars of the Templars were warring with the voices in my head, sweat started to form and drip along my brow and neck. My other hand reached up and gripped my elbow, keeping my other arm steady and straight as I fought my way forward. Heat shot through me next, a wire-hot vindictiveness slithered through my bones and lit my marrow alight with a blaze.

I must have been screaming, there's no way I wasn't, but I couldn't hear a damn thing over the other noises around me, or within my own mind. Visions flashed behind my eyes, people and faces I didn't recognize, towering, monstrous figures that burst like sparklers and fireworks before reforming into something else, something bigger, something darker, and filled my mind with a fog. There was another force pushing, it soared behind me, cascading through my back in waves and briefly my mind supplied: _Templars_.

It made it easier to push against the rift as it fought me for dominance. Each breath was filtered through sandpaper as I continued my desperate push, my eyes were flooded with tears and every blink only brought more. Vision gone, hearing obscured, the only thing I could trust was the next step that I took. Someone or something hollered tremendously from within the rift, a crashing tsunami of hatred, blackened and burnt by time, festered by rage and tasting of salt and copper shot through my throat and poisoned my body.

The tether between me and the rift coiled for no more than a heartbeat before it gave a blood curdling, grating scream and popped, its explosion silent at first before the blast caught me under my diaphragm and rocketed me back off my feet, the tendons and ligaments in my arm felt as if they had been snapped clear off the bone. A scream ripped up through my sandpaper lined throat and I hit the ground with a dead slap, my vision burnt white and then reddened before going black.

I came to consciousness slowly, like waking up from drug-induced slumber, unaware of the passage of time or where my body was in the physical realm. Above me, the sky was darkened by large, rolling rain clouds, a gentle thunder echoing overhead, but the green tint of the Fade was absent. Seconds after, Cassandra's face swam into sight and she knelt next to me, a hand on my shoulder.

"Jaime," she breathed, amazed (to find me alive, no doubt), "you did it."

Immediately, tears sprang to my eyes and without a single thought, I reached up and wrapped my weakened arm around her, my left arm dead to the world, but I couldn't bring myself to care. The woman spared not a moment and pulled me up into her arms, sitting me up against her chest, and with the clank of our armors pressed together, I began to sob.

"You did it," she continued to murmur, comforting me with awkward pats on my back, our armor in the way of her affections. "Breathe, girl. We made it, it's over." It only made me cry harder, wracking, uncontrollable sobs escaped me, my diaphragm spasmed under my ribs to the point of pain and suffocation. Solas came up around behind Cassandra and stood, leaning on his staff, his head bright with sweat.

It was a few minutes more before I could breathe normally, my face swollen and rough from tears. My left arm was useless, but with Solas' help, we slung it up against my chest with a strap of leather and cloth from a Templar. Slowly, we made our way back toward the entrance, the Templars collecting themselves and their scattered bits of armor and weapons. Most, if not all, looked dazed and utterly confused, but with a single look up into the sky, relief flooded them, a few with tears of their own hidden under their helmets.

More silent tears slipped down my face; I couldn't wipe them away as one arm was in a sling and the other was wrapped around Cassandra's neck as she assisted me with walking. A few of the more coherent veteran Templars saluted me with weak and wobbling fists as I walked past them, and all I could offer was a nod: _we did it_ , we shared the silence together.

My throat choked on whatever emotion gripped me, I couldn't tell what it was. Was it relief? Joy? Fear over the lost limb? Grief? I wouldn't necessarily say I could jump for joy at the moment, but the sheer and utter emptiness I felt at having completed my task was overwhelming.

 _I didn't die. I'm still here._

I wasn't looking at the edge of a never ending chasm anymore, I was looking at the dive into an ocean, and at least with that I knew I could swim. My fingers curled tightly into Cassandra's pauldron and the arm she had around my waist held me firmer. We shared a glance and Cassandra leaned her head enough to press our temples together. My heart felt it would burst, because what she couldn't say in words I could feel through her actions.

 _Thank you._

Damnit, was I going to cry the whole way back to Haven? A hard sniff rattled through my nose and I ducked my head to keep my walking steady as I stared at the ground. The end of our walk came into view, Templars lined the exit on either side, their armor gleaming and dented in some places, but whole. I hadn't seen any of them lying on the ground, so I prayed that meant they all survived.

" _They did_." Cole's voice echoed through my head. " _There was enough to carry you without letting the Fade take you, they saved you, brought you back, let you stand with their strength_." I closed my eyes, relief bubbling in my stomach at the familiar voice and I exhaled shakily, tentatively reaching my thoughts out to Cole.

 _I thought I told you to stay in Haven?_

" _I am here, and there. You were scared, you didn't want to be alone. I know that feeling, being with people but still alone._ " There was a pause, but since my arm was numb, I couldn't tell if he was close by or not. " _I wanted to help. I can help, because I am here with you_."

 _Oh, Cole._

"Jaime?" Cassandra's voice broke through my silent conversation and I focused back into reality. With a swallow, I found myself surrounded by my companions and Bull's Chargers, their lieutenant and commander staring at me with unreadable expressions. Cassandra gently unhooked my arm from around her neck and held me steady.

I hadn't realized how weak I felt, my knees buckled under me and it was a race as both Krem and Bull jerked forward to catch me. Krem managed to get to me first, taking me gently from Cassandra's hold and holding me by my shoulders before Bull swept in and picked me up like a child. There was no energy left in me to feel embarrassed or flustered. My head dropped to his clavicle with my eyes shutting heavily.

"Exhaustion, much as before." Solas muttered somewhere behind me, off to Bull's right side. "See that she gets to Haven quickly, have Adan attend to her –"

"I'll have Stitches look her over." Bull countered with a low rumble, or maybe that was just my hearing loss. There was a shuffle of footsteps and Bull adjusted me against his chest, his arm under my legs being careful as he placed his hand on my hip.

"We'll take good care of her," Krem added softly, closer to the left side of Bull, "would you like some of the men to stay here and help with whatever injuries you may have?"

"No." Cassandra injected firmly. "Take the Chargers with you, the Templars have proven their worth and trustworthiness."

"... agreed," Solas sighed, his tone reluctant, "for now, we are safe."

"There's still a mark on her hand." Bull seemed to growl, his arm shifting under my back, cradling me upward a bit. I attempted to blink to clear my vision, but it swirled a bit like mixed, wet paint and deciding that I didn't want to throw up on my crush like some elementary school kid, I kept my eyes closed and continued to listen.

"I shall see to that issue when we return. _For now_ , she is to be taken back to safety. Keep watch on her for any irregularities." Solas commanded. That must have been the last of his patience because footsteps started and faded away. A cloak or something similar was placed over me, my lame left arm pushed closer to my chest to keep it from falling.

My eyelids felt like anchors. "Cass?"

"I am here, Jaime." Cassandra's armored hand rested on my forearm briefly. "Iron Bull and Lieutenant Cremisius are returning you to Haven."

"... 'kay." I wanted to ask so much more, but my throat refused to work, dry and cracked and dusty that it was. I knew this bit of information already, I wanted to know what had happened with the rift, but I couldn't formulate my thoughts to articulate them with my mouth. _Fucking hell, I sound drugged._ Cassandra must have signaled to my caretakers, because my body bobbed as Bull began to move.

My head rested back between his clavicle and shoulder joint. I tested my fingers of my left hand and found that I couldn't feel them at all. Such a result should have concerned me, but shock must have still been setting in, because the fact of the matter was: I wasn't dead, so a dead _arm_ was a good trade off.

Amputation, though. I'm sure that would worry me later.

It was unclear to me how long it took us to make the march back to Haven, but before long, I was being passed around, more voices could be heard, distinctly Blackwall's and Varric's, but they faded not long after and I found myself in my cabin, the familiar smells of polishing grease and leather oil found my nose and relaxed me, at peace now that I was home.

… _home._

-0-

When I awoke, it was morning. Whether it was the next morning or some days after was uncertain. Crust had caked my eyes shut and my hand fumbled out for something to wipe my eyes clear. I almost leapt from my skin as another hand found mine, and a second scare-jump did have me smacking against the wall on the other side of my bed as I realized the hand I was using was the left one.

"You are certainly far more animated than I would have suspected." Solas' voice tingled against my ears, my hearing back to normal. A few hard blinks cleared my eyes of their snot, but not my vision. Odd shapes took form and I could spy that my elven friend sat in my chair facing my fireplace, his legs crossed at the knee and his hands resting in his lap, as prim and proper as you please.

Frowning, I glanced at my hand and found that the one I held was Cole's. I looked up, my shoulders twitching with surprise upon noticing his hat was missing. _Christ, rude. Too many things happening altogether._ My fingers curled in his palm, his other hand brought up a damp hand towel and he held it up for me. Reluctantly, and with much confusion, I took it.

"Where…? No, I'm – home. What happened?" Both my hands retreated once I took the hand towel wiped my face from my forehead down. The cloth was ice cold and woke me up fast, my vision clearing as my skin pricked with the sensation.

"You fainted, yet again." Solas clarified, sarcastic. "It's been two days. One day less than before, much to our relief."

"There was some healing we needed to do," Cole murmured to me, his hands behind his back, head tilted, "your arm was almost lost, but I told you I can help, so I did, and gave you back your arm."

"Wait, what?" I muttered, lost, wincing up at Cole from the sunlight of my window. "I do distinctly remember losing _sensation_ in my arm, but not the whole thing."

"It's the Mark." Solas sighed quietly, glancing at Cole for a moment. "Cole had informed me of his assistance at Therinfal, replacing the energy you expended with his own." Startled, my gaze shot to Cole and he blinked at me, the situation a natural thing for him. I shook my head, my attention flickering back to Solas.

"Wait, no, that's bad." I croaked. "Cole's a spirit, if he uses that energy –"

"Theoretically, yes, he would be under the same assumptions as other spirits, but Cole is… unique." Solas seemed displeased with his own answer, his eyes narrowed at the young man in question, but Cole took no notice of the attention.

"I'm not fully _human_ , I don't hurt as hurt happens, but I can mend hurts that are not mine." Cole attempted to explain, his kaleidoscope eyes twitched in their sockets, dashing over my face. "If we lost _all_ of you, I couldn't bring that back, but small parts of you I can, the Mark makes it easy."

"In essence, your Mark not only connects you to the Fade, but also to any amicable spirits, such as Cole." Solas nodded his head to the boy, his hand refolding on his lap. "An interesting tidbit of information no one deemed important to tell me."

That was directed at me, surely.

"I hadn't thought about it," I answered him quietly, "I hadn't known what Cole was doing, only that he kept the numbness at bay for a little while."

"Bending, but not broken, tired and twisted, leashed together and sapping," Cole muttered quickly, his hands coming up to lace together in front of his chest, almost resting on his stomach, "Thieving, taking, quaking, putting back what's stolen, fixing what's broken, I've never – got to heal someone before. It's nice." There was a pregnant pause, all three of us unsure of what settled between us. In the end, I reached up with my Marked hand and gently placed it on Cole's closest elbow.

"It's nice to be cared for, Cole." I thanked him with a soft smile, "I'm glad you were here for me."

The smallest, sweetest smile touched his lips, and then he vanished.

Solas continued on as if Cole had never been in the room, "The man from Iron Bull's company, Stitches, kept you stable for most of the first night. You caught a high fever after returning to Haven."

"Hopefully insanity doesn't set in from the damage," I joked, testing my left arm with a roll of my wrist and then my shoulder. I held the joint to add pressure, but also for assurance that I actually did have the arm attached and it wasn't fake. Magic could do almost anything, if the rumors were true.

"Indeed," Solas deadpanned, "Such as it is, the fever broke and you continued to sleep. I must inform you, the company you keep is – disquieted."

"Is it because of this?" I raised my left hand, the Mark's small chasm in my palm still present, but faded like a dying glow stick. Solas nodded his head and I sighed, my hand falling to the bed as I sat up. "Why… do I still have it? I thought… I don't know, that it would disappear with the Breach?"

"I had my speculations it would, but now…" Solas shook his head and turned toward the fire, his expression hard over his mouth. "Now I feel as if most of my theories are lost in the wind. What I thought it once was is incorrect and I fear what it could be, now."

"What is it, Solas?" I asked tentatively, concerned at the cryptic nature of his response. He wasn't ever once to give a full straight answer, but even this was on the far side of vague, even for him. A silence surrounded him, seeming to void the noise that existed in his personal space and he stood, his jaw tight under his skin.

"When I know, I shall inform you. Take your rest, Jaime, we have a long night of celebration to attend tonight." With that, my elven friend gracefully exited my cabin, leaving me befuddled.


	30. ACT II: Invincible

**ACT II:** _Invincible_

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 **Note:** _Updates will be bi-weekly from this point forward, with little interruption (I hope). As always, I want to thank you all for returning, and the newcomers, your comments and enthusiasm for Jaime's story and growth make this all worth-while._

* * *

Preparations for a celebration were well underway long before I had awoken. Fires were lit up in their caskets and holders, dotting along Haven from the Chantry to the front gate. Soldiers were laughing, running up and down the pathways like children, dedicating their time to setting up tables and seats, preparing food and barrels of drink. _I wonder what would have happened had I died?_

I immediately put a stop to those thoughts.

I had bought myself some time with bathing in the frigid waters of the tub left in my cabin, combing my hair out and braiding it off to one side, the wild parts left to their own devices. I had donned simple clothes, a tunic (as always) with my cloak, and sturdy pants to fight the cold. My body wasn't completely up to snuff, there was still some stiffness in my joints and a creak in my back, but I would manage.

Varric and Blackwall were up by the dwarf's tent and when I arrived in their line of sight, Varric beamed me with a wide, toothy grin. Blackwall's shoulders slumped once his gaze found mine, giving me a once over to make sure I was alive. My feet hurried me to Varric and I almost skidded on my knees as I dropped down to hug him. His arms flew around me tight, crushing me to his chest.

"Atta girl!" Varric cheered, pulling back and holding my face in both his hands, grin bright, "Knew you'd make it!"

"Could'a shared that with me before I left, I almost shit my pants, guy." I weakly joked, cheeks puffed in his hands. He laughed at me, patting my face like a child and released me. Blackwall held a hand for me and I took it, standing on wobbly knees.

He hesitated for a moment and I caught the tight expression over his nose. A chuckle came up from me and I held my arms open to him. There was only a moment's hesitation more before he brought me into his arms and held me nearly as tight as Varric did, his exhale hard against my ear.

"Had us scared for a right moment, there." He murmured against my head. "When they walked in with you looking like a corpse, I thought for sure…"

I pulled away, grinning at him. "Looked pretty damn good for dead, didn't I?" He blinked at me, and then gave me the heaviest, longest eye roll he could, sighing at the end. Varric and I cracked into laughter, with tears coming to my eyes briefly, an insane sort of relief gurgling at the bottom of my throat.

 _I really did it, didn't I? We made it._

"I'm just – glad to see you're alive, and well." Blackwall nodded to me, releasing me with a slow slip of his arms. Another grin painted my face and I patted his shoulder. With a wave, I left them to their conversation and walked off toward the tavern, determined to see Sera. The tavern was bursting at the seams, shouts and yells of different parts of a single song erupting from inside.

It didn't take much to poke my way through, mostly because once someone got a look at my face, I got a hearty slap on the back, or a salute, and they cleared the way for me. I didn't find Sera when I entered, but rather that she had, somehow, teleported into my arms magically, hollering my name with the rest of them. Naturally, being as weak as a new lamb, there was a yelp and we crashed to the ground.

Sera was laughing on top of me, and despite the pain in my back, I laughed with her. She hugged me as well, needing no permission and kissed me smartly on the cheek, her breath smelling of the pungent alcohol Cabot was infamous for creating.

"Sera, off," I laughed, shoving at her ribs, "I was half dead, have some respect for the deceased!"

"You wot!" She giggled at me, rolling onto the floor and hauling me up by my shoulder to lean against her, in between her legs, beer and food stains down her front. "Right, see! Said to 'em it'd take the world fallin' in on ya to get ya good and dead! Didn'a say?" The templars cheered around her, about as drunk as she was, I'm sure. She hugged me tight again, from behind, a momentary squeeze that transmitted more of her worry than her words did. I held her arm as best I could, acknowledging her fear quietly.

 _Me, too_.

It was a half hour or so before I could escape the tavern, with a mug and a half of whatever the hell in my stomach and giving me fuzzy vision before I trotted off in search of my other companions. Solas was not at the edge of his cabin's viewpoint, and his door was closed. I took it for what it meant, our earlier discussion still hot on my brain, and moved on to the Chantry. Waves and cheers followed me, bits of embarrassment crept in, my ears flushing red and the back of my neck on fire.

At the Chantry doors, I paused, staring at my feet for an extended moment. Slowly, my gaze traveled up to the sky. Above us, the same dark and heavy rain clouds I had seen before I was brought back to Haven floated overhead. The sun was blotted out, wisps of snow drifted around us and the darkened hole where the Breach was, hung dormant. A shudder ran over my shoulders and I quickly stepped into the Chantry.

Vivienne and Mother Giselle greeted me by Vivienne's desk. Mother Giselle gave me a careful bow, her full lips gentle in a smile before she excused herself, leaving me with my companion. Vivienne stood with me in silence, a small glance over me and then to my hand before her hard gaze returned to my face. Nearly unperceivable, her body shifted and relaxed, her back swaying like a willow.

"I'm glad to see that you survived, my dear." She said softly, her mouth even on her face. "It would have been dreadful to know all that you've done, and you would never see the result."

It was all the congratulations I was going to get, but it warmed me to pink and I smiled, my hands rolling in my cloak's edge, pleased.

"At this point, what couldn't I do, right?" I answered sheepishly, fighting my grin.

A hint of a smirk touched her lips, "What could you not accomplish, indeed. As I said, I expect a many great things from you, darling. You've proven that quite aptly. Let us continue the trend." She dipped her head slightly, her mouth soft and cheeks high and I returned the gesture, inordinately pleased with myself at having gotten so high a praise from Vivienne.

Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen were nowhere to be found in the Chantry. Vivienne pointed a disinterested finger back out into the courtyard and off I went, searching with my nose practically to the ground. I had reached the front gate to find the place completely flooded with people, the fifty-odd people from Bull's Chargers and the rest of the Templars having arrived made the area a rave.

"There she is!" Krem's voice hollered from somewhere in the throng of people. Glancing about, I spotted his hair before his face and grinned as I dashed my way over the steps to their company. Half the faces I didn't recognize; Krem's mouth was split into a grin, his cheeks bright and red from either the chill or alcohol, and it was anyone's guess to which at this point.

"I thought the celebration was later tonight, what the hell is this?" I cajoled, gesturing to a barrel with my open palm. The barrel itself was hacked on one side, a mace embedded and acting like a weird spout, turned one way to pour and another to close off the stream of leaking drink.

"Well uh," Krem was immediately backpedalling, hand at the back of his head, "see, thing is, it's damaged goods, right? Can't have that mucking up the works, so we –"

"Cremisius Aclassi, look at me." I pointed to my eyes with my index and middle fingers. He stopped, glancing up with startled blinks. "You're a big fat liar and I love you for it."

I was rewarded with a handsome grin, making my heart flutter at the ease of which he delivered it. He clapped me on the shoulder and wiggled me further into the group, the Chargers singing some nonsense around me as I found myself in Bull's shadow, a mug in his good hand and his single eye lit up, watching his crew.

Where my heart had fluttered with Krem's grin, it shuttered to a full stop as Bull noticed me and graced me with a long, languid smile, canines flashing under his lips. Though I was a hundred percent sure any and all blood I had in my body had evaporated through my skin, there was just enough to flood my face straight to my ears. I must have been sweating a river, no doubt.

"The woman of the hour," Bull greeted me, mocking me with a half bow and folded arm over his stomach. He stood upright as the Chargers hooted, his grin wider, "Good to see you alive, Boss. Would have been boring without you around."

"Really?" I choked, forcing my humor and waving my hand at the company around me, "looks like y'all would have done just fine."

"Oh sure, but this is normal." He teased, bringing his arm around my shoulders and tugging me to his side, "But there's nothing quite as exciting as watching you run head first into danger."

"Bull, I almost died," I couldn't breathe, not because he held me tight, but rather because I knew if I drew breath, I was going to faint from his scent. It was an odd mixture of some sharp alcohol (far stronger than whatever was in the barrel, for sure), wood, and leather. To think romance warned me the man I fell for would smell of sandalwood and spice; I feel that would have been easier to survive _that_ then this torture.

"What was it you said," he rumbled, mouth sharpened by a smirk as he tilted and leaned his head down to me, "Almost is not the same as actual?"

 _Fucking hell, he's going to kill me._

To save myself, I reached up and smacked a hand to his face. There was no pressure to push him away and his one eye practically brightened tenfold between my fingers, his mouth moving into a wide grin against my palm. My face was on fire and the Chargers were snickering at us, no one could tell me otherwise.

"You have a nasty habit of biting me in the ass, you know that?" I grumbled, rubbing his nose in my palm to punctuate my point. It was the worst possible thing to do, because he only grinned against it and nipped at my palm. A yelp jerked from my voicebox and had the Chargers cackling around us.

"That wasn't an offer!" I swore, snatching my hand back before he decided on anything else. A bellowing laugh rolled up from his stomach to his chest, rattling me against his side. He patted my back affectionately and loosened his hold, letting me stand on my own. From somewhere deep in the recesses of my bowels, my heart returned behind my ribs, my pulse echoing in my ears.

"You're a drunk asshole," I laughed, smacking his stomach with the back of my hand. It bounced off harmlessly, his muscles didn't twitch at the touch and he snickered, taking the last draught of his mug and tossing it to Krem.

"Takes more than a barrel or two to get me there, so we're good."

" _How_ much?!"

-0-

The celebration kicked off just as the sun began to set. The few mages we had in our ranks set off sparks of Veilfire and music started to play from somewhere and everywhere. People sang at different tempos and with different songs, poor Maryden pulled from one end of Haven to another, singing to her heart's content. My companions came and went as the festivities grew around me, their faces warmed with relief and freedom.

Exhaustion had arrived sooner than I had thought, but not so soon as to be unexpected. My limbs were sore and my left arm had started to throb. I took leave of my last group of citizens and moved up to where Leliana's tent had been, taken down for the celebration. Carefully, I sat on one of the crates, my feet dangling over the edge to the lower ground below me.

Footsteps came up from behind and with a quick glance, I spied Cassandra approaching. Without a thought, I held out a hand to her and the woman blinked at it, taking it with a tentative hold of her fingers. My own squeezed hers, love and affection and satisfaction all wrapped up into the gesture before I let go. She watched my hand drift away before looking out over the dancing crowd.

"Solas confirms the heavens are scarred but calm." She murmured with a glance at me. "The Breach is sealed." Silence settled comfortably between us, she shifted on her feet and drew her arms behind her back. The sense of more needing to be said tickled me, so I turned to her in my seat.

"We've reports of lingering rifts, and many questions remain," she continued, her eyes at my left hand, "but this was a victory. Word of your heroism has spread."

I snorted softly and shrugged, "Cassandra, we know how many people this chaos needed. I was lucky and got shoved into the middle of it."

"A strange kind of luck. I'm not sure if we need more or less." She sighed, rolling a shoulder under her armor. I tightened my cloak around me, briefly wishing I had dressed in something warmer. "But you're right. This was a victory of alliance. One of the few in recent memory."

Templars wandered past us, howling and needling each other with jabs, laughing between themselves as they stumbled to God-only-knew where. A chuckle bubbled up as I watched them, glad to have been a part of the reason they could enjoy themselves.

"Jaime," Cassandra started again, drawing my attention, "with the Breach closed, this alliance will need a new focus, and I –"

A war horn roared in the distance, the warning drums at the end peaks of Haven's range hammered to life and with a strange sort of empty fear, I stood next to Cassandra, both of us peering out over the wooden stakes to the distant mountainside. Little pops of torchlight started to appear, traveling down the snow and through the trees. As if from a movie in faded memory, the battle-bells started to toll.

Icy poison gripped the back of my throat, Cullen's voice echoed up through the falling snow:

"Forces approaching! To _arms_!"

I waited not at all for Cassandra and made a mad-dash through the scurrying people toward my cabin, crashing in through my door with wild eyes, searching for my armor. Blackwall was seconds behind me, having seen me run from his place at Varric's tent. His face flickered with surprise before it set hard and he lunged for my armor stand, dragging me to it. An eternity passed as he shoved me into my leathers and armor, clasping my pieces tight and fastening my belts.

My maul appeared in my hands and without a word, we flew through my door. At the gate to Haven's courtyard, Solas and Bull greeted me with furrowed mouths and heavy foreheads, clearly displeased with the situation. Civilians continued to scatter around us, the Chargers filing away from their spots to grab gear and usher people to safer places.

"So," Bull adjusted his maul with a look to me, "celebratory drinks are on hold, I take it?"

"Until I figure out who the fuck crashed the party, yeah." I answered darkly, adjusting my gloves over my hands and jogging to the front gate. Cassandra and Leliana stood with Cullen, all faces grim in the dying firelight, the echoes of a march coming to us in waves from the mountainside.

"Cullen?" Cassandra called off to my side, appearing with her weapons now in hand. She settled into my left side naturally, my companions shifting around me like water, with Bull at my back, Solas blocked by his massive size to be hidden, and Blackwall at my right.

The Commander turned to us, somber. "One surviving watchguard reporting. It's a massive force, the bulk over the mountain."

"Under what banner?" Josephine's voice drifted from Leliana's other side.

" _None_ ," Cullen spat.

"None?" Josephine parroted in surprise. At the end of her words, the gate before us rattled on its hinges, the wood creaking from hearty blows. My bones jumped under my skin, with alarm, my gaze flashed up to the mountain's slopes, but the forces were still approaching. Blackwall and I trotted up to the door, a voice calling through it.

"If you'd be so kind, it's rather drafty on this side!"

Blackwall shared a look with me before we reached for the gate and hauled it open. Cullen followed hot on our heels as we did so, the gates thrown back to reveal scattered bodies of armored mages, staffs frozen into their hands or snapped under them. A man dressed in leathers, bright with studs, exhaled with blowing gusts of hot breath and glanced up at us.

"Ah!" He cleared his throat, using his staff to stand on his feet. "I'm here to warn you. Fashionably late, I'm afraid." A small smirk flashed on his face before he tipped hard on one heel, Cullen and I dove to catch him. I clanked against Cullen's pauldrons as my commander secured a hold on the mage.

"Mite exhausted. Don't mind me," the mage soothed, patting Cullen away. His honeyed gaze found me, going wide at the sight. "There you are! I came to tell you what happened with the mages at Redcliffe. You're not going to like it."

Leliana's hearing was eagle-sharp, appearing at my back in an instant, her eyes narrowed on the newcomer. The mage paid her no mind, his gaze focused with mine, holding it as he spoke, swaying on his feet from his efforts to stay upright. My breath disappeared in a vacuum of my chest, my gaze flickering up to the mountainside, _don't tell me..._

"They are under the command of the Venatori, in service to something called The Elder One," he gasped, attempting to steady his footing, "the woman is Calpernia. She commands the Venatori, for _that._ " He turned and pointed up at a high cliff, a handful of kilometers from where we stood, pecks into the darkness.

" _The Elder One._ " The man shook his head, backing up toward us, "They were already marching on Haven. I risked my life to get here first!" It was scant minutes he had given us, but it hopefully we wouldn't waste them. Frantic thoughts ricocheted through my head, because even though we had Templars, that wasn't necessarily a straight-win against hundreds of mages.

And who the fuck knew what _Venatori_ mages could do.

"Cullen!" I gripped the Commander's elbow, jerking his attention to me, "Give me a plan, anything!"

"Haven is no fortress," Cullen fumed, nose flared and mouth tight over his teeth. "If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle." He turned to Blackwall, his gaze sliding between the Warden and Bull, then back to me.

His shoulder went stiff and he reached for his sword, "Get _out_ there and hit that force, use everything you can!" The sword hissed as it was yanked from its sheath, Cassandra followed the same and stood sturdy at the Commander's side, Leliana glared at the mountain and quickly hurried herself and Josephine back toward the courtyard, likely to take shelter in the Chantry. Blackwall took the mage by the arm and practically tossed him toward the gate, Bull and Solas drew up next to me as Cullen shouted orders behind us to the soldiers that gathered at his call.

Blackwall began leading us to the trebuchets.

"We need to set those trebuchets to fire!" Blackwall barked. Inquisition soldiers flew in around us once Cullen dismissed them, running toward the siege weapon. "Load them up, we'll keep them off you!" I couldn't catch my breath, terror taking my voice as I reached for my maul. It was a relief someone had their head on for command. We separated around the trebuchet, Solas and I to one side, Blackwall and Bull to the other.

The battle begun.

Handfuls of them charged up on either side, bombarding us with spells slung hard from their staffs. Solas was deadly silent as he dropped his heaviest barrier over my head, my armor and maul glowing a wild, blazing blue-green. The spells hurled our way bounced off my barrier as I charged forward. Close enough to see the eyes of my first opponent, my right heel dug into the snow, dirt and ice bunching at my foot. I pivoted with my momentum of my maul swing from the opposite side.

The head of my weapon caught the metal stave of the mage, electricity chattering on contact as he shoved me back. My weapon hit the ground like a brake and with it planted, I launched forward with a raised knee, still within range of hand-to-hand combat. The mage grunted as my joint landed in his stomach, he gripped my leg and raised his staff only to find my maul sailing up again from under him, shattering his knee.

We both hit the ground, but I fell on top of him, landing with all my weight and crushing his lower ribs with my armored knee. Hastily, I brought my maul up with one hand, jerked the handle higher in my grip and allowed gravity to drag it down as I aimed for his face. The helmet bowed inward, there was a gurgle of a gasping breath before his twitching stopped.

 _One down_ , I thought emptily. _Christ, what's happened to me?_

There was no time to contemplate the vacant sense of apathy holding me tight. I looked up, wincing as more spells flew past me, sizzling as they shot close enough to feel their heat. _Jesus Christ! Where'd they get magic like that?_ All we needed was the sandstorm from Mad Max to make it Hell On Earth. Some of the spells began to blind me, bright against the snow. I shielded my eyes and looked for my companions.

Fire flared and flashed around me, Solas' spells were cascading from above my head and bombarding new invaders, he was heaving hard, his breath hot swirls in the air. The Inquisition soldiers were working with the noise hammering around them, desperately trying to load the trebuchet for launch. _They need a minute more._ My feet brought me up to stand, only to roll as a frost spell twisted my way. Solas smacked it away with a gust of fire, his eyes dark and steady on the Venatori.

Two others came up to me, one with a book and another with his staff. _The book's dangerous, get the book, hurry-hurry!_ Because that meant the mage could cast without his hands and could spawn glyphs faster than his mates. With heels skipping across the ground, the maul's handle on my hip, I dashed forward, ducking under the mage with the staff and gunning for the bookworm. Glyphs formed in front of him, his figure fading.

I launched my maul at him, releasing it with a half-cocked swing. It startled him enough that he clutched his book to his chest and the glyph faded from sight. Swift as I could manage, I yanked my dagger from my belt and rocketed forward, catching the mage in his stomach and ripping it down, the hilt caught on the robes and skin, slicing down only an inch or so.

Shock struck him, his gasp nearly silent. He dropped to his knees, scrambling to keep his book with him, the other mage preoccupied with Solas. My hands were slick with blood, but I was quick enough to kick his book away with an awkward mule-kick and punched him across the face hard enough with my gauntlets to strike him unconscious.

 _I am going to need some serious therapy if I ever get back, murder should not come so easy._

My lungs were struggling, hitched with dry, heaving inhales. My organs felt on fire and the blood was already crusting on my hands from the cold winter wind. Finding my maul, I dragged it out of the snow and found Solas sweating heavily, his shoulders shaking from the use of his magic. Ice shards crested his staff and I hurried toward him, careful to keep my hands to myself.

"We're ready to fire!" One of the Inquisition yelled.

"Fire!" I screamed, my voice cracking on the letters. Head turning, I searched for my companions again, the Inquisition soldiers spotting the area. The trebuchet groaned and grunted as it was prepped and then the scream of gears as it was released, the ropes swinging tightly with its load soaring into the mountainside.

"They need help on the other side!" A soldier called from further away, toward the other trebuchet. I sped ahead of Solas, my maul on my shoulder and the thundering steps of Bull followed on my heels as we made our way past their side. _There you are!_ Getting to the other trebuchet was a trial, more mages peppered up from the lower region. One glance at the siege weapon told me enough.

"Fuck!" I shouted, dashing toward the machine. "It's not prepared! Cover me!"

"Herald, wait!" Blackwall roared, the clank of sword to staff echoing after.

"No time!" Bull answered him, "Do as she says!" He grunted as he brought his maul across three bodies with a single swing. Long and painful strides got me to the platform, my maul was dropped at my feet as I gripped the handle to bring the sling into the guide chute. The mechanism fought with me, my weight the only source of power I had to keep turning. It was an agonizing minute or so before the sling was fully secured down into the chute. I locked it in place and turned, my hair flying into my face.

"Bull!" I blared, looking for him. His figure appeared a little further off, but he came charging toward me at full speed, the last opponent at his arm having his neck snapped in the process. The Qunari was a few feet from me before I pointed to the compacted loads used as ammunition for the trebuchet. He understood well enough and hurried to obey, dragging the weight into the sling. Solas and Blackwall kept the mages at bay, slowly backing up toward us.

"Solas, fire!" I commanded, voice shaking as I prepped the launch. The load was set ablaze and with a vicious kick of my heel, I released the sling. The flames whistled past us through the chute as the counter-balance brought its full weight forward and the sky lit with the fireball.

It crashed into the mountainside. Seconds past and then the echoing crack of the avalanche rumbled through the valley's pass. Trees were swallowed and the torches of the invading force were rapidly blinking out as the snow and rocks smothered them with each passing moment. Cheers were thrown up around me, hollers of victory and relief, my men celebrating their survival.

My shoulders slumped and I brought my blood-covered hands to my forehead, sighing in relief. The majority of the forces would be dead ( _now I'm a mass murderer, joys_ ), the battle would be easier to control once they funneled into Haven –

Then, from the pitch black sky, a comet of fire shrieked toward us. Bull barely managed to snag me in his arms and forced us into the snowbank as the comet crashed into the trebuchet. The wood howled as it was splintered, chunks and pieces flying everywhere, even catching a few unfortunate souls in their descent. The siege weapon's wood was hissing in flame, the metal flash-melted and morphed into useless shapes.

"The fuck was _that_!" I demanded, digging my way out from under Bull. A shadow soared past us, its form long and massive against the ground. My thoughts scattered at the sight, the wings breathing with sharp thrusts over our heads, the roar of the beast deafening. I looked up in time only to see its tail whip through the dark night.

"We can't fight that!" Blackwall warned, picking up men from the ground. "Herald!"

"Get to the gates!" I ordered heatedly, Bull at my back and maul back in my hands. " _Run_!" Bull's hand shoved itself into the small of my back, rushing me forward. Unbelievably, I smacked his hand away and forced myself into a run, trailing behind my soldiers as they made their retreat. The exhales of the creatures wings blew down onto our backs, the shadow shooting over the snow. A roar cracked my ears.

 _Holy fuck, we're dead, we're fucked, we're so fucked!_

Harritt stood at his door, slamming his foot against the fallen crates. Blackwall hurried ahead and assisted the man, bringing his axe clear over his head, up to his toes in height and slammed down on the crate and door, crashing it open. Bull and Solas continued with me to the gates, dogging my footsteps to keep me from falling behind.

"Move it!" Cullen shouted, waving us through the gates. " _Move_! Hurry!" I skidded through the door, one heel thrown out from under me making me fall briefly, I latched onto the gate's handle with a wild flail and managed to stand just as Blackwall and Harritt pulled through, my Warden shoving his weight against me and shutting the door swiftly.

"We need everyone back to the Chantry!" Cullen shouted, storming his way up the stairs. "It's the only building that can hold against that — _beast!_ "

"Cullen," my voice shook as I followed him up the stairs. The Commander stopped and glared at me briefly, anger and the twitch of desperation pulling at his mouth. "Cullen! What do we do? It's a fucking — _it's a dragon!_ "

"At this point…" Cullen exhaled roughly, exhaustion flooding him, "just make them work for it." He left up the stairs, yelling at soldiers as he went, commanding them to retreat. Turning on my heel slightly, I glanced at my men, all three of them shifted their gazes to me. My bottom lip trembled slightly, fear starting to creep up through my bones.

"Get the people to the Chantry, I…" My eyes closed and my hands curled into fists. The dried blood felt like gloves over my fingers. They gripped harder and I squared my shoulders. _Not this time. We didn't save the world only to lose it to some piece of ninny asshole and his thugs. As long as the dragon doesn't land on us._

 _Fuckity fuck._ I rolled my shoulders, keeping them tight and raised my head, my molars clenched for a long moment.

"Get the people to the Chantry." I ordered, leveling my gaze to the three of them. "Save who you can, but don't waste time searching for too long. Get inside, _stay_ inside, hear me?"

"What are you doing?" Blackwall demanded, voice low with a hard step toward me. I raised a hand and planted it on his chest, keeping him at bay, doing my best to keep my expression from crumbling.

"Find my people. Keep them safe. Get them to the Chantry." I pushed at his chest lightly and turned to Solas and Bull, hesitating. My gaze settled on Bull, "Get the Chargers to the Chantry, whoever is left. Fortify the doors and go down to the dungeons. Hold out as long as you can."

"Boss," Bull breathed, but I ignored him and turned to Solas.

"Do not think for a second you could send me away." Solas growled at me, vicious rage on his face, morphing his eyes into something wicked. "If this is to be the end, then we shall make it excruciating for them."

"Good plan," I nodded. The two of us spared nothing else for my other companions and took hurried leaps through the courtyard. Doors were slammed open, people pulled out from fires and fallen debris. Blackwall marching off at breaking speed to gather who he could, and Bull soon disappeared from my sight to collect his men.

 _I know they're angry,_ I found Adan and hurried to get him free, my mind racing. _I know they're angry, but I can't_ — _I can't afford the emotion right now. I have to_ — _there's got to be something we can do. We can't just dig into the hole to die, buried in our self-made grave._ More people fled to the Chantry and Solas and I cleared the courtyard of who we could.

The place was starting to become overrun as demonic, deformed mages were appearing in the horde, spells were starting to overwhelm what few soldiers who stood to ward off the approaching advance. Solas and I turned our tails and sped toward the Chantry. The doors were held open, a familiar voice yelling over the chaos.

"Move!" Roderick hollered, waving people in, his face bruised and bleeding. "Keep going! The Chantry is your shelter!"

"Roderick!" I exclaimed in surprise. I reached for the man without thought, the chill of my darkened hands noticeable against his skin and robes. He collapsed to a knee and coughed, blood splattering from his lips. The mage who had come to warn us immediately beside him, pulling Roderick to his feet.

"A brave man," the mage told me, helping Roderick over to a seat as the doors slammed shut behind us, "he stood against a Venatori."

"Roderick," I abolished weakly. _That explains his Picasso face, Christ._

Roderick shook his head, "Briefly. I am no Templar." I followed them to a nearby support pillar, helping the mage set Roderick into the chair. Upon closer inspection in the torch light, I could see scorch marks along his robes, his sleeves were torn and the blood had dried at the collar around his mouth.

"What were you thinking," I muttered to him, ripping some of his sleeves to make what swaths of bandages I could for the damage. The mage blinked at me, surprised. _I've been monster enough for the day, Roderick doesn't need lip from me right now._

"Herald!" Cullen's voice reverberated down through the Chantry's hallway, he jogged over to us, eyes momentarily on Roderick before flashing to me. "Our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us."

"No fucking shit, Cullen —" I stood, glaring at him.

The doors to the Chantry opened again, the last of the Chargers filing in hastily with bodies thrown over their shoulders or draped across their arms. Bull looked bloodier than when I left him and his one eye scanned the Chantry before he spotted me. Relief seem to flood his expression for a moment before it steeled and he stormed after his men, commanding them.

"There has been no communication, no demands." Cullen watched the Qunari go, counting heads as the Chargers went past. "Only advance after advance."

"There was no bargaining with the mages, either." Our newcomer interrupted with a scoff. "This Elder One takes what it wants. From what I gathered in Redcliffe, it marched all of this way to take your Herald." Exasperated and exhausted, I raised my arms to drop them against my sides, my body throbbing with pain and my head about to burst.

"If you've got the faintest idea why the fuck he's after me, I'd be overjoyed to hear it." I snapped, my irritation boiling just under my lungs. "Because it's _over_ , the Breach is _closed_."

"Well, that, and taking the Templars — I've no idea what would incur this much wrath." The mage's eyes flickered over my shoulder. A small glance of my own followed and I found my men, Bull and Blackwall, with Solas not too far off, watching and listening.

The mage chuckled, shaking his head, "And you lot had such a promising start with the landslide. If only trebuchets remained an option."

"They are," Cullen breathed with a sharp look to me, "if we turn the last of them to the mountains above us."

"Cullen, we're fucked." I answered him, gesturing behind me with a wave of my hand, "If we hit them, we kill ourselves doing so." The Commander's face darkened and he step toward me, close enough that our faces were a hand's length apart, his voice low and rumbling, pained.

"This is not survivable _now_ ," he growled into my face, "the only choice left is how spitefully we end this." Bull's face came to view a few paces behind the Commander's shoulder and my heart thudded in my chest, twisting to escape between my ribs.

 _No_. _We're not running. I'm done running!_

My focus returned to Cullen's face, my head shaking as I stepped away from him. The nerves of my hands fired enough to make them shake, the sour chill of some sick heartache and anxiety took the place of my runaway heart, filling the void with a loneliness I hadn't felt in _months_.

 _I don't want to lose any of you._

"Well," the mage's voice broke in between us, drawing our attention away from each other. "That's not acceptable. I didn't race here only to have you drop rocks on my head."

"Should we submit?" Cullen challenged darkly, turning toward the mage. "Let him kill us?"

"Dying is typically a _last_ resort, not first!" The newcomer barked back, sculpted eyebrows frowning. "For a Templar, you think like a blood mage!"

"Hey!" I kept them apart with a shove of my hands on their chests.

"There is a path," Roderick gasped, holding up a hand. I glared at the men before my feet brought me to Roderick, my hand reaching out and holding his palm in mine, the copper red of old blood stark against his paling skin. He looked to me, struggling, "You wouldn't know it was there unless you'd made the summer pilgrimage, as I have."

A cough choked him, his fingers tight over mine. "The people _can_ escape. Sh — she must have shown me. Andraste must have shown me so I could… tell you."

"What are you talking about, old man?" I murmured. He tugged at my hand and reluctantly, I assisted him to his feet. He trembled against me and leaned his weight parallel to my leg. Best as I could, I held him up as he spoke, his mouth wobbling as he formed his words.

"It was whim that I walked the path, I did not mean to start, it was overgrown." Another cough, with another spatter of blood that stained my hands, blotching them bright with new flecks. "Now, with so many in the Conclave dead, to be the only one who remembers… I don't know, Herald."

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. His face was paling, his eyes fading at their edges, his focus was starting to waver in the light. My hand stayed in his, my other coming around his back to hold his other elbow to steady him, alarmed now that I could recognize the sounds of a slowly dying man, undone not by weapon, but by time.

"If this — simple memory can save us, this could be more than mere accident," Roderick mumbled to me, loud enough only for my ears. " _You_ could be more." I searched his face, but the usual contempt had been stripped by his pain, he held onto my shoulder, weakened and demoralized. My arms squeezed him in half a hug.

My gaze flashed to Cullen, "What about it, Cullen? Will it work?"

Bull and Blackwall stiffened like boards just outside of my vision, their paranoia over my safety more than likely bringing them up to speed with the plan forming in my head. Cullen glanced over my face warily, his mouth hard over his teeth. _If we can do this, if we can pull this off, think of all the people we'll save, Cullen._

 _You don't need me anymore. The Breach is closed._

"Possibly," Cullen said slowly, " _If_ he shows us the path, but… what of your escape?" I ignored him, and the low rumbling growl I could hear from Bull came rolling within the shadows of the fading torches. Instead, with gentle hands, I led Roderick over to the mage, passing him over and letting go with my fingers shaking.

"Perhaps you _can_ surprise The Elder One." The newcomer eyed me with awe. A weak smile touched my lips, _should have seen me when I started this shit. What a mess._

Cullen gritted his teeth, but turned to the soldiers and Chargers, "Inquisition! Follow Chancellor Roderick through the Chantry! Move!" Bull flicked a hard hand at his men, Lieutenant Aclassi far from pleased, but they obeyed and began to pack and move, following Cullen and the others.

"Herald," Roderick drew my gaze to him, his voice soft, "If you are meant for this, if the Inquisition is meant for this, I pray for you."

I forced a half-hearted smile to my lips, nodding my head. "... thank you, Roderick." More soldiers trotted past me, my eyes widened at the sight, but Cullen manifested at my elbow and took a hold of it, turning me toward him.

"They'll load the trebuchets. Keep The Elder One's attention until we're above the treeline," He informed me, voice weakening. "If we are to have a chance — if _you_ are to have a chance — let that thing _hear_ you."

I nodded. _Christ. Fuck. What am I doing?_ Cullen pulled away and leveled me with a final, searching look before he turned on his heel and marched to the end of the Chantry with the mage and Roderick. My eyes found the men waiting for me, their faces twisted with anger, or in Bull's case, apathy.

My heart stuttered in my chest, ashamed.

"... how about it, guys?" I asked my silent watchers, voice cracking. "What's one more round, eh?"

"You're insane if you think I'm leaving you now." Blackwall snapped at me, sword and shield brandished in his hands. "I told you before. Where you go, I follow."

"We've come this far." Solas murmured, less anger, but with a sympathy I couldn't place. "I will see this to its end, with you."

"People, demons, or dragons," Bull answered, expression closed, "told you I'm your man for the job."

"Right," I choked, biting the inside of my cheek and exhaling hard before turning toward the doors, my hand coming up to pull my maul from its holster.

"Let's give 'em hell, boys."


	31. ACT II: Herald

**ACT II:** _Herald_

* * *

 **Note:** _Themes of depression and heavy anxiety, minor (squint you'll miss it) suicidal thoughts. Please be aware as you go in, this may trigger memories (as I'm using my own personal experiences) and I want to make sure we're all safe._

 _Remember, you are never truly alone. If it gets bad, I am here for you. PM me if needed._

 _Thanks to all who continue to come back and read this story, leaving comments and love. You are the true driving force of this story._

 _Also: Happy holidays, please be safe for the coming New Year._

* * *

"I understand the strategy," Solas grunted as he brought a barrier over our heads as we entered the courtyard, "but I usually avoid so much attention."

"Yeah, well." I intoned, adjusting my gloves over my hands to hide the dried blood and pulling my maul over my shoulder. "What do you think I've been trying to do ever since Cassandra had me in shackles?" The others were quiet, their battle nerves keeping them focused and steady, were as mine had me spouting nonsensical humor at my discomfort.

We made a hard march through the courtyard. Mages and deformities waiting for us at the far end by the gate. The echoing, rolling shriek of the dragon circled over our heads, the shape of the creature obscured by the low clouds and rising smoke of destruction. Bull stepped forward and took a hard look up at the sky, sighing.

"You know," he murmured whimsically, "when I wanted you to see a dragon, it wasn't like this."

"Of all the things you had to say…" I muttered angrily, yanking the handle of my maul hard to balance it in my grip. My head shook and we drove ourselves into the fray. Solas cleared the first few invaders by the gate with a sweeping wave of blazing fire, the snow controlling where it went, the mages slamming spells to their feet to keep from burning alive.

They must have not realized Bull and Blackwall gave no shits about scorch marks.

Those two took wild leaps over the fire and together crashed like an avalanche onto the mages, crushing them down between hammer-head and axe, Blackwall's shield acting like a riot-shield and shoving any escaping limbs into Bull's monstrous swings. Solas brought the gates open with a mind-blast, the wooden structures yowling as they were split open, wood pieces flying into the snow. More mages greeted us beyond the gates, and I stood waiting for them, baiting them closer.

They ran through only to meet the business end of Bull's fearsome swing, another two or three instantly dead from the blow. Solas and I rushed after Blackwall, the Warden taking a good portion of the horde with his shield, barking his rage with every vicious hack of his axe. Solas cleared my path with another gust of fire and large spears of ice that shot up from the ground. My legs carried me through the carnage, ignoring the screams and howls behind me.

"Should have taken fucking track, like mom said." I growled at myself, charging the distance from the gates to the last trebuchet standing. _Why did he leave just that one? Did he think we weren't a threat anymore? Asshole._ I was going to make him eat shit for doing this to my people. The area for the last trebuchet had a handful or so of mages and panic surprised me as a spell tripped my feet, a splattering of ice caught my heel.

My face hit the ground at full-throttle and another spell of electricity snagged on Solas' barrier, igniting the air around me. Blood poured from my forehead, blinding me slightly. The head of my maul was brought in an arch across the ground, clipping the heels of the approaching mage. The arch continued and momentum brought the head to my heel, breaking the ice enough for my foot to yank through. A combat-roll had me swirling through the snow, my maul bounced over me and hit the ground to be my anchor.

Up I went with a shove and cracked the top of my skull against a chin of a charging mage. My eyes rattled in my head and wildly, I took a swing with my maul in retaliation, hitting the man's hip. _You fucking dick-stick, why were you so fucking close?_ The back hand swing brought the maul into his stomach and I launched him backwards into his companions.

Bull stormed past me, anger radiating like the sweat steamed off his shoulders. One poor bastard got his face snagged in an unforgiving grip and Bull crushed his face in with a pull of his fingers. Solas fade-stepped around us, bringing up another wall of ice to block off the rest of the remaining mages. Blackwall jogged past us toward the trebuchet.

"Hurry!" He barked. "We don't have much time before they swarm us!"

"How the fuck do we turn this thing?" I came up to the siege weapon, glancing around its base. I could see anchors around the base and a turnstile wheel at one side, hooked up to the gigantic thing.

"Not easily." Bull grunted. He waved to Blackwall, "Grab that side, I'll take this one. Solas, keep them off of her back — Boss, you're gonna have to turn that thing as fast as you can."

"Oh, you're fucking kidding me, what is this a time trial?" The growl left my lips with no heat. The maul was left within reach of my hand in case shit flew and with all the strength I had left to muster, both of my hands gripped the bottom spoke and heaved into a full turn.

"This shit shouldn't weigh so much!" I complained, hauling another full turn on the device.

"Less whining, more turning!" Blackwall snapped at me, nearly tripping as he pulled from his side, assisting with the speed of the siege weapon. The banter was extremely strange considering the situation we were in, but with Solas' spells whistling in the background, the dragon's shadow haunting us with each sweeping pass, and my struggle with a device that was several hundred years non-essential in my world: I would have considered it normal.

"I swear to God when I die," I grunted, my hand slipping from the spokes for half a second, "I'm going to come back and haunt all of your asses."

"Please don't," Bull growled, his shoulder shoved into the base of the trebuchet, fighting against the snow to keep his balance as he pushed, "last thing I fucking need is your attitude in my dreams, too."

"Bite me, horn dog!"

" _What_ did you just call me?"

"Could we go a bit faster, please?" Solas interrupted with a strained voice. "As entertaining as this is, I feel ashamed at having to remind you lot about the severity of the situation!"

"I concur!" Blackwall bellowed. He was completely hidden by the base of the trebuchet and when I looked up, I could see that the sling and chute were now facing Haven. A glance over my shoulder wasn't enough to tell if the Inquisition had made it over the treeline yet.

"Load it!" Bull shouted to Blackwall, cranking the turnstile of the sling to bring it down into the guide chute. Blackwall hurried to obey and I left them to it, reaching Solas' side to assist him with the invaders. My elven companion was starting to falter, his spells slowing and his arms shook with each new swing. In reach of him, my hand shot out to take his elbow, turning him toward me.

"Solas, clear a path for —" My voice died in my throat, because just above my companion's head was a growing black dot. It was hurtling toward us at a monstrous speed and Solas followed my eyes up into the sky, a sharp gasp shooting through him.

"Move!" I screamed at Bull and Blackwall, " _Now!_ "

It was seconds that we had, both of my companions heeding my words without a thought and made mad-dashes toward my position with Solas. I shoved at Solas' back, throwing him into a run to get him away from the incoming slaughter. The dragon roared, shattering the air around us before lighting it up with a firestorm. The stream of flame struck wickedly close and catapulted us all into the air.

My world spun into shades of gold and black, red flames turning into swirls of hissing snakes as I came crashing down into the ground shoulders first. There was no time to roll, my hips smacked into the ground and starbursts flooded my eyes. The ringing in my ears wavered, voices muffled through the explosive greeting. Everything felt like it was in pain, or on fire. Both, if I was lucky.

A few hard blinks cleared my vision of its drunkenness with a hand to steady my head. Slowly I rose into a sit, looking around for either my maul or my companions. Neither was anywhere within reach or within sight; except for the looming shadow that strutted toward me in the fire. My knees brought me up, shaking in my armor, the figure stood taller than I was, with shards of red lyrium ripping through his skin, fur or feathers covered his shoulders and his face snarled at me.

My feet kicked into a run, trying to escape. Nowhere I looked could I find my friends, terror lacing my gasping breaths and dizzying fear had me feel wild with the urge to fly from the danger. The ground convulsed under me, the thundering gallop of a four-story tall dragon screeching into my face bringing me to a dead stop, a scream dying in my throat.

"Holy motherfucker, you're _real_ ," I exhaled disbelievingly, the nostrils of the creature flared as it blinked at me, mouth agape and saliva or blood trickling down its blackened teeth. Another vicious screech sang up its throat and threw me back by force, landing me closer to the lanky, macabre man that cornered me from the other side.

" _Enough_!" A blast slammed into my back, turning me around to face the walking corpse. Nothing of his person made sense. Slabs of skin were stitched or belted to pieces of cloth or his battle-skirt, his head a horrendously disfigured vision of flesh and rock and his hands weren't much better than blood-dipped claws. My muscles trembled, knees and elbows lost to my shaking.

" _Pretender_." The man's voice threatened death with a hammering rumble, " _You toy with forces beyond your ken. No more._ "

"Y-you need to back the hell up, Satan!" I faltered, stepping back and wincing as my knee buckled, "What — I'm not afraid of you!"

" _Words mortals often hurl at the darkness._ " The creature's voice gave no indication of humor or seriousness, his tone droning through the fire like a steady thrum of a rockslide. " _Once they were mine. They are always lies._ "

The dragon shifted behind me and I skidded away like a spooking horse, alarmed at the heat that covered my back as the thing exhaled into the snow, spots and patches of it melting away into the dirt. _Holy fucking hell, would I die from third-degree burns before it ate me? Fuck! Did everyone escape?_

" _Know me._ " The man continued, unmoving from his position, his gaze glaring. " _Know what you have pretended to be._ "

"Fucker, keep your aesthetics," I squawked, half my attention on the dragon that nipped at the air behind me. When faced with impossible things, the mind had a tendency to immediately eradicate the more 'normal' of them, if only to ease the sense of insanity that was beginning to set over me. The trauma of seeing a _real_ , living, breathing, snarling dragon was heinously incomprehensible to my struggling brain.

" _Listen to me._ " The man rumbled deadly steady. " _Exalt The Elder One. Know the will that is Corypheus!_ " My eyes shot wide, the impossibility factors suddenly shifting in favor of the twisted, dilapidated man in front of me, Varric's voice ringing in my head; _the fuck did he just_ — _no, no that's_ —

" _You will kneel._ " The creature commanded, taking a step forward.

"Y-you'll — you'll get nothing out of me!" I declared, but the effect of my rebellious reply was lost as my words stuttered and my throat constricted the use of my tongue. A pause breathed between us, the creature shifting on its feet and turning its mouth at me in disgust.

" _You will resist. You will always resist. It matters not._ " The creature's attention turned away from me, its blackened claw rising from its side, an orb of some sort clutched in its grip. Sparks and tendrils of red electricity danced around it, seemingly harmless to the one who held it.

" _I am here for the Anchor. The process of removing it begins now._ " With lightning speed, his other hand shot out and his palm flared red with a version of the magic that had once resided in my palm. A palm I was horrifically reminded of as his magic brought my Mark back to life, white-heat searing through my skin into my tendons and bones.

A scream ripped up from my throat, my other hand snapped to my wrist and held it, though I was sure animal-instinct was trying to yank my wrist from my arm, my knees buckled and my weight hit the ground with a thud, jarring my senses. The Fade-green tendrils lashed out and whipped around my fingers like physical tentacles, pulling at my skin and fingertips, leaving behind gashes and slips of blood.

" _It is your fault,_ _ **Herald**_ _. You interrupted a ritual years in the planning, and instead of dying, you stole its purpose._ " The creature jerked his arm back and whatever invisible length of energy that connected us also pulled me forward by the muscles in my arm.

"Stop it!" Pain bloomed further up my arm and through my shoulder as I fought the pull of his magic, holding onto my wrist desperately, as if that alone would stop his theft of my limb.

" _I do not know how you survived, but what marks you as 'touched,' what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens._ " His fingers curled into his palm and dragged me with the movement, my knees breaking into the ground and snow as I resisted. Cramps laced through the muscles of my arm and paralyzed my joints, keeping me stiff.

The dragon growled and rumbled behind me, stepping closer and exhaling its putrid breath over my body, teeth dripping as its mouth opened and swung right next to my left side. I wanted to roll, to bolt from the smell, but Corypheus held me tight and continued to yank me forward, my palm's skin starting to burn away from the split that housed the Mark.

" _And you used the Anchor to undo my work!_ " He growled, the first sign of honest emotion rolling through his words. " _The gall!"_

"M-maybe don't lose your shit, then!" I screamed at him, painful spasms quaking through my body, my flight or fight response numbed down to senseless, sarcastic humor in an attempt to buy myself time. My watery gaze searched, but there was no sign of my maul, and the dragon's looming body blocked most of my escape options.

My stomach was rolling, nothing drew into my lungs as I inhaled, leaving me gasping and wiggling to get free of the magic that held me prisoner. Tears streamed down my cheeks and nearly the whole left arm had been stripped of any sensation aside from internal third-degree burns, my flesh whole but feeling like it was peeling away from the heat. Corypheus sneered at me, snarling as he stormed over to my prone form and took up my arm.

 _Holy fucking shit,_ I struggled in his gasp. His entire claw held the length of my arm as easily as a throwing stick, yanking me up well beyond the ground and letting me dangle, useless and powerless in the air. The dragon roared, probably laughing at me, snapping its jaws wantonly near my back.

" _I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to serve the Old Gods of the Empire in person._ " Corypheus held me up, closer to his face, his head twice the size of mine, the smell of sulfur and coal surrounded him, and for a brief moment, I was sure death had come for me what with the smell of Hell poisoning every inhale.

" _I found only chaos and corruption._ " Corypheus' claws dug into my arm, his gaze darkened with rage. " _Dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused. No more._ " With gruesome effort, my legs curled up at my knees and shoved my feet into his torso, hoping to dislodge myself from capture. The creature paid it no mind, sparing not even a glance at my efforts. Terror, bile and sickly, flooded higher in my stomach than before.

 _He's going to kill me. I'm_ — _really going to die_.

" _I have gathered the_ will _to return under no name but my own. To champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world._ " He spat at me, blood trickling down my arm from his claws, flowing into my leathers and reaching my neck. Tears continued to drip from my cheeks, gasps of pain escaped me, my shoulder threatened to rebel and release my joint from its socket.

" _Beg that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the gods, and_ _ **it was empty.**_ " He glanced at my hand, the magic from either of us sparring against each other, neither relenting in its efforts. With inhuman strength, the creature threw me through the air and my back smacked against what was left of the mangled trebuchet. Shivers wracked my body with such intensity that my stomach hurt and withered under my muscles. He snarled at me, claws gripped tight into his palms.

" _The Anchor is permanent. You have spoiled it with your stumbling._ " He stepped forward, the dragon gurgling next to him, nostrils sheared back into bone, the steam of its breathe swirling between us. The glint of something next to me caught my eye and within seconds I was scrambling for it.

 _Sword! Swordswordsword_ — Never mind the fact that I had never actually trained with the sword for longer than an hour, but it was all I had, and it was a lifeline that I wasn't about to be ungrateful to have. I held it aloft, it shook violently in my hands as I pointed it at my impending doom.

" _So be it. I will begin again, find another way to give this world the nation_ — _and_ _ **god**_ — _it requires._ " My back pressed against the wood of the trebuchet, a wayward glance allowed enough of a picture to see that the trebuchet would collapse from the force of its counter-weight dropping if I released the lever.

A single, lit arrow pierced the sky and relief came to me, bright like the sun.

 _They made it. They're alive._ My gaze fell back to the creature that was Corypheus, his monologue continuing; unaware of the turn of events around him. _I won't_ — _live to see this end, but I can make sure they have a chance._ My teeth gritted together, new tears falling. _I can give them this one last thing._

" _And you,_ " Corypheus was nearly on me now, his dragon vibrating with anticipation, " _I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. You_ must _die._ "

A slow, maniac grin took my lips. "Hell hath no fury like a pissed off woman, asshole!"

It was almost magical, watching his eyes go wide as I swung my sword around my head and crashed it against the lever of the trebuchet. The siege weapon howled in protest, the chains screaming as they released and unfurled from their anchors, the counter-weight dropping within seconds. The load within the chute wiggled violently as it was launched, colliding into the mountainside like a meteor.

The dragon turned with its master to watch the destruction.

I ran for my fucking life.

One giant leap took me off the base of the crumbling siege weapon and two more leaps got me over the snowbanks. A crazed and pained stride of my legs got me over the worst of the rocks, the dragon shrieked like hell behind me, the force of its roar slamming into the back of my heart and urging me to go faster. The avalanche was on my heels in mere moments, snow swiftly spinning and rushing my vision.

My boots caught on a rock and sent me sailing into a crevice covered by broken planks. Darkness swallowed me, something hard struck my back and by the time I hit solid ground, my vision had gone white, my consciousness fleeing me.

-0-

The sense of pain came to me first, radiating from within my body as a constant thrum. Everything from my toes to the back of my skull felt a pressure of unrelenting discomfort and twisted white-noise that I could feel even in the numbest parts of my muscles. Vision came to me next, at first swirling in nothing but black and white, then slowly into grays and blues before I realized I was in a cave.

Hearing followed after, and soon it came to my attention that I could hear sobs echoing from the walls. My hands reached around, doing what they could to grasp freedom. Snow melted under my hands, the soil loose and riddled with rocks that cut my already bleeding hands. I reached up around me to find that I was being held in place by broken planks of wood and patches of snow.

With that, I understood that the frantic weeping I could hear was mine, reflecting back to me from the walls of the cave. It made the sobs come up harder, wrecking my body and sapping it of any strength I had remaining. My arms curled around my torso and held onto their opposite shoulders, my legs pulled up as far as they could go to my chest. There I laid, for who knows how long, in a fetal position with my tears cascading into the muddy ground under me.

 _What was I thinking? Honestly what the fuck. What_ — _where am I? What am I supposed to_ — _I just want to be home. I just_ —

Not a single coherent thought or plan came to mind, the overwhelming sense of hopelessness smothered me, faced with a creature that literally tossed me around like a ragdoll. The encounter with the dragon was no better. _Here I thought I was_ — _getting used to the fantasy land and I was just dead fucking wrong!_

A scream shredded through my throat, echoing a hundred-fold in the glittering, icy cave. Another after another followed, my tears slipping down my face as each new sound that escaped me shook my core and left me breathless. When the last of my strength had been spent, I went quiet, shaking from only the cold and not the abandonment I felt, the void in my gut a painful reminder that I hadn't died just yet.

Small, hiccuping and broken sobs left my lungs as I turned onto my back and kicked at the debris that acted as my cage. At first my boots slipped from the wood and the weight of the planks crashed into my chest and face. A twinge of anger fueled my efforts, then, and after a few minutes I managed to drag myself from under the mess.

My left arm had stopped bleeding some time before I noticed, but the twisted and lacerated skin was still alarming to look at. Carefully, with my sobs beginning to grow quieter, I picked up handfuls of snow and did my best to clean off my arm. I pulled at the bottom of my tunic under my battered armor and yanked enough out to cut a strip away with my knife in my belt.

It was a shit bandage job, but at least I didn't have to look at the wound anymore. It went a long way in alleviating some of my fear and hopelessness. Another handful of snow went into my mouth, the cold soothing my swollen and irritated throat, the icy sensation slowly slipped down my esophagus and into my stomach, setting me back into reality.

My right hand came up to wipe away at my face with more snow and pushed my hair back. I sat for another few minutes, unmoving, with my eyes closed and lungs taking unsteady breaths. My throat cleared and weak fingers reached for my hair, loosening my braid and refitting it into something proper.

It was another small step to normal. Something I could control.

Exhale. Inhale.

Next step.

There was no weapon in sight, only my small knife. It was tucked away again into my belt, lest I lose it in the cave. My boots were intact and the soles were whole. Good. Gently I rolled onto my knees and prayed for strength on all fours before hauling myself upright. The world spun for a good minute, vertigo getting the best of me.

Inhale. Hold it. Exhale.

Next.

An investigative look around found me a path. Then an archway before it led me out of the cave. My boots took me slow, cautious and careful over the boulders and rocks along the path. My head ducked away from the icicles, my hands catching the wall on occasion when I stumbled. Time and again, I would stop, bow my head when I became overwhelmed with my emotions.

Exhale. Count to three. Inhale.

Keep walking.

 _Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming._ My thoughts sounded weak even in my head, and I knew it was because I was suffering from disassociating, my mind trying to leave my body on autopilot, to escape the anxiety and fear that grew within me.

 _What if I get lost, where do I go? How do I find out what path_ — _they were on the other side of the mountain, could I find_ — _But what if Corypheus survived, did he fly away_ — _which way would I go, up?_

One rolling thought after another and not a single one could I catch to keep in my grip and formulate a plan, just as before. My head rested against the bitter stone wall of the cave, the sharp strike of cold speared through my temple and a hyper focus came to it, my eyes closing again, my hands against the wall.

 _Stop, Jaime._

 _Just. Just one step at a time._

 _Just keep swimming._

The path through the cave bent around and curved, hollow doors sheltered cave-ins, rocks littered my path, but they lessened with each step I took. Soon, the gentle touch of natural light came from the mouth at the end of the tunnel, a sweet relief to the faint glow of my renewed Mark. It was sad, almost, how disinterested I felt when a scream of Despair echoed in the shallow opening of the path.

"You know," I could hear my voice ring in my ears, unearthly and even, "I'm getting really sick and tired of you. All of you." There were three of them, and without a maul, I was as good as dead. Voices echoed through my palm and my eyes closed in defeat. _Of course. Of_ _ **course**_ _I wasn't going to win that easily._

The Mark was all I had left, and if I was going to die, then I was going to take all of them with me.

Two of them charged for me and without a single care in the world, I raised my hand to them. Then, seconds before the first Despair collided into me, my eyes caught it: a bare, slithering flicker of the Veil, weakened and thin. I could tell the story a hundred times and to this day, I would never know what possessed me to reach up and grip the Veil.

But I did, and it ripped between my fingers like wet paper.

A multitude of tendrils snaked out from the tear _I_ had created and captured the demons in the webbing. They howled and reached for me, desperate for escape before they were jerked and twisted, their energies dispersed into the wind with a blast. The force knocked me over, unprepared that I was. My gaze locked onto the Veil's opening, watching as it slowly stitched itself closed, never having been a true rift. My hand came up to my face and I stared, bewildered.

 _What_ — _what did I just do?!_

Resolutely, I staunchly decided never to do that again ( _not until I tell Solas. If I can tell Solas. If he's alive. Fuck._ ) and picked my way through the splatterings of the demons, or what remained of them from their violent return. Hastily, I made my way out of the cave only to find myself in a snow storm.

"Sonovabitch," I spat, shielding my eyes from the whipping snow with my right hand and striking my left hand out like a beacon. The winter wind wrapped around me, unforgiving in its power. The breath of the wind made it hard to decide which direction to go in, but considering that I was more likely to die from hypothermia than find shelter (the hell I was going back into the cave with demons and no weapon), I trudged on, directionless.

Mostly, I stared down at my feet, watching as the snow immediately filled the space my boot left with each new step I took. Occasionally I would look up to keep myself from walking into a tree (if I could see it, that was) and continued this pattern for a long while. There was no way of knowing how far I was from Haven, or perhaps I was clear on the other side of the mountain range? Emptiness drove me, hopelessness making the idea of death a peaceful one.

Maybe hypothermia wasn't so bad a way to go?

 _Stop that._

Right. Just keep swimming.

In the end, the storm faded away the higher up I got, the mountain's cliffs looking vastly unfamiliar to me, but they blocked out most of the storm so they were a priceless vision to my eyes. The night sky returned over my head, the stars bright and twinkling, winking at me from overhead. The moon was full and with the storm over, offered me enough light to continue.

"Is that…?" A small, smothered came fire sat against a rock for protection. The sight of it in the lonely mountain was jarring. Slowly, I made my way over to it, noodle legs protesting with every step. At the campfire, I reached out with a trembling hand and could feel the barest echoes of heat.

"Embers?" I mumbled in surprise, digging my hand into the coals. Gentle sparks flew up and immediately disappeared with the cold wind, but the inner gut of the campfire was still warm from the dying embers. My gaze flashed around me, wondering who could be out this far. "Is this… recent? Hello!"

Desperate to find someone, anyone, an enemy at this point — I trudged on, digging my way through the snow, my hands acting as shovels each time I fell, but I could hear voices bouncing through the mountain's cliffs. A choking sob of happiness escaped me as Cullen and Cassandra's voices found my ears.

I sunk to my knees in the snow, hugging my arms around my stomach as I doubled over, exhaustion winning the battle against my will. For the second time in who-knows-how-long, I willingly gave over into the darkness just as Cullen's shadow reached me.

 _I made it home._


	32. ACT II: Inquisitor

**ACT II:** _Inquisitor_

* * *

 **Note:** _A little bit of a filler, but we'll get to the great stuff once we get to Skyhold! Thanks again to everyone who continues to return and leave comments, I'll try and catch up on them. I appreciate your patience and your efforts, thank you so much!_

* * *

For the briefest of seconds, the faintest of voices echoed through my ears. Watery images of faces I faintly recognized. The wind-chime voice of my mother's singing and dad's obnoxious laughter, caroling along with her. The memory was gone as my eyes opened and the prick of tears trailed after it with a shuddering and empty sigh.

"You're awake." An incredulous voice reached my ears. A hard blink brought Solas' face into focus. His cold hand came to my cheek, a gentle thumb brushing away whatever tears had managed to form. With a tremble, my Marked hand reached up and held his to my skin, relishing in the affirmation of reality.

"I'm awake," I whispered, astonished. "Jesus… _Jesus._ "

"Shh," Solas brought his other hand to my vacant cheek and held my face firmly. "None of that. Let's not go into the throws of panic just yet."

"I'm in shock, asshole." I grumbled weakly, instinctively bringing my right hand to over his other one. What a picture we'd make, I was sure. The warmth of his palms was reassuring, but nothing I did stopped the flow of tears from coming. Stress and shock threw my body into a chaotic trainwreck of signals.

"Perhaps not in so much shock if your foulmouthed nature hasn't failed you." Solas teased, patting my face lightly and letting go. He gripped my shoulders to pull me up into a sit when he realized I was attempting to lift my weight from the cot.

"It's a coping mechanism." I gasped, holding my side as pain flared up through my ribs and heart. "Fucking, _Jesus_ — what happened?"

"Where?" Solas deadpanned, crossing his arms and leaning back on his small stool. "To your ribs? There are four broken. To your arm? Bruised, lacerated, and possibly infected. To your —"

"Aye, aye, aye!" I raised a hand and waved him off, coughing with a wince. "Alright, I got it, I got it. Christ." The silence settled between us, his eyes dark as he scanned me over, searching for something. My weight adjusted in the cot and I leaned into my palms at the edge of the bed, glancing around.

"Where are we?" I asked quietly. "This… how far are we from Haven? How many got out?"

Solas glared at me, sharp and pained. "... I suppose a good leader would be concerned with the state of her people. Most of us survived, but a good many were lost in the battle. Most of the civilians are gone."

"Ah… shit." My trembling hand came up to my forehead, pushing my hair back.

"As for Haven, it is demolished, buried in the avalanche. There is no return." Solas cut his words short, an angry, underlying buzz in his demeanor. No words formed in my throat, I couldn't think of what to say to his statement. _How many is that dead? Did we keep a roster? A list? Who's gone? Do we tell families?_

"Christ," I breathed, both hands coming up to my face and rubbing along my cheeks roughly. "What about…?"

"The three are alive." Solas ticked off his fingers, "Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine orchestrated the retreat rather efficiently, considering the circumstances. The others of your troupe, alive, in various states of recovery."

The relief I felt was bittersweet. Those closest to me had survived, all of them, and yet I couldn't quite bring myself past the guilt that gurgled at the bottom of my bowels. So many others had died, killed in the fight or in the avalanche, those left behind because we couldn't find them, or because we —

"Stop." Solas' hand came forward and rested over my knee. A sharp look brought my eyes up to his gaze, the line of his mouth firm and jowls tight. "I see the grave you dig, Jaime, and you _must_ stop."

"Solas," I started, but he turned his head with eyes closed, the other hand raised to silence me.

"No. Listen to me." Solas commanded in a low and level voice. "You cannot — _cannot_ allow yourself to fall into guilt over things you could not possibly control. Look at me." I did, startled at the spark of his demand, nervously twitching my knee under his hand.

"Do not pity these people, do not insult them so." He continued, his hand gripping my knee with a squeeze. "These people came to you, to aide you, to assist you — do not allow your guilt to taint their sacrifice. They chose their path. Honor that. Find strength in their belief that victory was inevitable."

"It almost wasn't," I protested softly, "we almost all died in the depths of Haven because —"

"And yet we _didn't_." He countered heavily, pushing at my knee slightly. "Do not confuse what _could_ have been with what _happened_. The future is judged by the decisions we choose to follow. It cares nothing for what never existed. Do you understand?"

"... I understand." Reluctantly, I did. Logically, I knew what he was getting at, because allowing myself to just be consumed by the failure of losing so many lives would do nothing to bring them back. It didn't stop the black bile from rising in my throat, though.

"So then, to the important issue." He leaned away from me again, ramrod straight as he pointed to my left hand. " _That_ has returned. Was it the doing of this new abomination?" The Mark glowed between us as I brought it up close to my chest, the edges of my hand tattered and torn, the scratches and blood cleaned. I frowned.

"No bandage?" I asked quietly. Solas stiffened before he sighed and reached over to another nearby crate, rummaging through it before he pulled out a short strip of cloth. Carefully, he placed it in my palm and after a few seconds, the cloth material disappeared into my palm.

I immediately held my palm out like a grenade.

"Holy fuck, what the fuck," I exclaimed with a strangled voice, my gaze shooting to Solas for explanation.

"I am as — concerned." He struggled for a word, because I could hear the rest of it on the tip of his tongue; _confused, baffled, alarmed_. This was No Bueno and the idea of a black-hole in my hand soared rapidly to the front of my thoughts, old conversations long forgotten.

"Solas," I snipped desperately, unsure of what else to say.

"It has not been harmful to anyone, though Cole has been wary of it." Solas clarified with a hard look to me. "Mother Giselle had been able to heal you and clean you without much trouble. Adan could see no other wound aside from the tearing in your palm."

"Will you _listen_ to what you just said?" I snapped with a low voice, my brows pinned over my eyes. " _Tears?_ What do you mean — fucking hell, it must have been from Corypheus."

Solas' rounded on the name sharply. " _Who?_ Give me the name again, Jaime."

"Corypheus, that's what he called himself." I debated telling him Varric's story, but that would have to be reserved for later, right now what mattered was the immediate impact of the information. "According to him, this here in my hand is an Anchor. He was using it to get — to get into the Fade."

A deadly, brackish silence suddenly swallowed us. The kind of silence you feel when a parent found your secret stash, the kind of silence where a friend looked at you and thought _how fucking dare you_ and to be honest, it made my hand curl away from him, my body slanting to one side as if to escape him.

"He did," Solas bit every word from his mouth, "did he tell you _how_?" Carefully, I cherry-picked my words. Wholly was I unwilling to bring the wrath of Solas upon my head, regardless of it being my fault or not.

"Not — not that I can recall." No time for teasing, as much as I wanted to. _A dragon had kinda been an important piece for a while there, if you can remember_ , but that was better left unsaid. Solas looked impatient with his twitching ears. "He said he spent years, or something like that… to make it."

"Truly." Solas answered icily. "And he was going to use it to enter the Fade? Why?"

"That, that you might want to ask Varric." I muttered uneasily, feeling as if I was throwing my dwarven-brother under the figurative Bus Of Blame. "I — I only recognized the name because Varric told me this story about how Hawke and Bethany —"

"I know the story," Solas interrupted impatiently.

I blinked, blindsided. "You… you do?"

"I have heard it, once upon a distant night at camp." Solas waved off my surprise, charging onward. "This is the same Corypheus, then? Varric will not be pleased."

"No fucking shit." I announced blandly. "I don't think _anyone_ is gonna be happy about an ancient evil rising from hell to drag us into Armageddon." We were in a fucking video game from the way that sounded flying out of my mouth. A sigh came up with my hand as my fingers pinched the bridge of my nose.

"It fails to explain how this item came to exist in your palm." Solas prompted, arms crossing over his chest. Tentatively, my palms pressed together. The Fade didn't suck me into a vortex and no imminent danger surrounded us from the contact. No screams, no tendrils. No monsters.

"I don't know." I answered honestly, looking at my pressed hands. "He was trying to rip it out of my palm with this orb-thing he had. It was shaped about the size of my head, with grooves all through it. It glowed red."

Solas stared at me, deeply.

"... you're scaring me, man." I rubbed my hands together nervously. "But, yeah. He tried to yank it out, and when he couldn't, he told me I spoiled it with my _stumbling_. Asshole."

"I see." Solas said softly, his body deflating slightly. "That certainly changes things. There is a matter I must research, in what is left of my effects. Should I find anything, I shall make you aware." He was nearly out of the tent with a turn of his heel before he stopped, fingers in the folds of the flaps.

"For what it is worth," he finished softly, "I am very glad you survived, Jaime." He couldn't have seen my nod or the tears that dribbled down to my chin, and it was a relief he didn't. Solas had already comforted me enough. With some effort, I gingerly inhaled and was careful of my tender ribs. Wobbly knees tried to help me stand, only to crumble with my weight. I stayed in the cot, hands gripped along the edges.

There was rustling feet outside of my tent and soon after, Cullen's face appeared between the folds. _Solas must have told him I'm awake_. He swallowed hard at the sight of me and hesitated before stepping inside. He was quiet as he puttered around for a place to sit, taking Solas' stool near me after a few seconds.

"Hi," I croaked, and then winced at the sound of my voice. "You doing okay?"

"Don't you dare," Cullen muttered weakly, shaking his head. His eyes glanced at me briefly, long enough for the bags under his eyes to be apparent. How long had I been asleep if he had bags under his eyes, worse than normal? I waited as what he wanted to say warred with his mouth and his expression changed several times as he stared at the floor.

"Hey, grouchy." My foot swung out lightly and tapped the toes of his boot. "We made it."

"Yes." Cullen focused on me, his hands clenched over his knees. "We did. Barely, but we did. How — how are you feeling? Adan mentioned your injuries and…" He trailed off with a small tip of his head toward me, his eyes roaming over the blooming bruises that no doubt smothered my skin.

"I… honest? No clue how I feel." I replied gently, my fingers laced together between my knees. "Kinda hard to feel sorry for yourself when you've got the death of a lot of people on your head." He was silent and I didn't press him. His mouth worked hard again, lips pale with pressure.

"Herald, I…" He stuttered to a stop. A exhale shot through him and his hands came up to his hair, running through the curls angrily, his legs launching him onto his feet and he paced slightly in the small confides of the tent.

"I don't know what we would have done," his voice cracked, his back turned to me, "I don't know if we could have done what we have if you hadn't…" He fumbled with his words, hands useless as they fidgeted through the air, grasping at nothing.

"Cullen, just…" My words caught in my throat, unsurprisingly choked by sympathy, watching my Commander fall apart in front of me. There would be no recovery if even one of my central command just collapsed. Though, to see him now, pacing and running his hands through his hair, it wasn't a surprise the amount of pain he was going through.

He, like the others, had lost a great deal of people. His soldiers, his people that he left behind to give me time, the ones lost in the snow, or the others that fell when the first wave hit. I wasn't the only one shouldering the weight of dead bodies. Despite being a soldier himself, death didn't come any easier to him, not in such a massive sweep. Selfishly, I took relief in the fact that I wasn't alone with that responsibility.

"Cullen." I tried again, catching his attention. Once he turned to me, I patted the cot. He hesitated and I patted it harder. "Come here, hardhead, or it's gonna get messy." A strange, strangled gurgle of a laugh tumbled through his lips, a touch of mania to it. He shifted around the stool and came to the cot, tentatively sitting next to me, inches apart.

I leaned into his pauldrons, and frighteningly swift, he slumped against my weight. We sat in the quiet, the gentle sound of bodies walking across the snow outside, hushed voices murmuring to each other. A quick glance at his face and I found the Commander staring at the ground.

His voice was low, "It was madness, after you left. Leliana had — she had collected most of her people and already started the evacuation. Most of the supplies," he gestured lamely toward the crates in my tent, ripped open with medical supplies tossed about.

"... contingency plans." I murmured, gasping slightly with an inhale, my ribs flickering with firey pain.

"Aye. She, I don't think she knew what was coming, but she's always ready." Cullen sighed and ran a hand down his face, pulling at his chin. "The Chargers lived up to their name, they wrangled a few brontos with halters we had of dead horses, got us through the worst of it."

 _I'll have to check on them, make sure they all made it out. And Bull…_

"What happened after — after I left?" I asked, tentatively fearful of the story I would get.

"We managed to go out through this blocked off pathway from the Chantry." Cullen started, holding his hands between his knees, looking up to the ceiling of the tent. "Leliana and I stayed behind as the Chargers took the mass of our people through the overgrown path. Roderick was kept in the lead by that mage." He glanced at the flaps of the tent, as if our mystical friend would appear upon command.

He shook his head, "We… heard, the explosion, the — when the dragon landed, we could feel it. By the time I ran back through the Chanty, your three were already at the door. They said they couldn't… get to you?" His eyes turned to search my face, wondering if I had been truly cut off or willingly abandoned.

"Yeah, the dragon had covered the only way up to the Chantry," I confirmed with a nod, reassuring my Commander. "They couldn't reach me. I'm glad they ran back. I was — I dunno. I don't think I really had any time to be worried."

"I wouldn't be surprised." Cullen's shoulders slumped gently. "There was… we could hear your screams."

"Christ." I swore under my breath, ducking my chin to my neck. "That must have been bad."

He stared at me for a long moment, and quietly replied, "It was. Leliana managed to convince Iron Bull and Blackwall to retreat, but they didn't look like they wanted to. Maker, _I_ didn't want to."

"I don't blame you," I murmured to him, knowing it helped little if at all to hear it, but I had to, "there was nothing you could have done for me. The only reason I wasn't killed instantly was because he wanted this." My Marked palm flashed between us briefly, the glow bright and blinking before I held it again with my other hand.

"He?" Cullen questioned with surprise. "The Elder One, you mean?"

My hand brought my fingers to press into the corners of my eyes. "Let's… hold on that, please. I don't want to tell the story ten different times. Where is everyone?"

"Cassandra and Leliana are taking tally of all who remain." Cullen promptly answered, clearing his throat. "Josephine is with Varric and Adan. They're counting supplies."

"Okay." I breathed out, wincing hard and holding onto my left side, ribs burning. "I need you to roundup a War Table. We got some shit to discuss." He hesitated again, but beside me his body seemed to relax, his shoulders settling straight and his head slightly higher. It felt good to bring someone else a little bit of security.

"Yes, Herald. As soon as possible?" He asked with a heavy glance over my figure.

I winced, "Maybe? I'm surprised we survived the night."

"The night?" Cullen blinked at me, surprised. His face paled, "Herald – it's been nearly a week."

" _What?_ " I almost threw up on his boots, calamity rolling through my stomach. "What do you fucking mean it's been a week? _A week since what?_ "

"The night we fled from Haven, and then two days of searching the area to find you – a half a day's travel here – your healing… what happened to you?" Cullen asked brokenly, eyes wide with pained sympathy. My head shook and with my eyes closed, I raised a hand to shush him.

"Don't – don't worry about it. Not now." My brain was still reeling from the timeline. Serious injury or extreme shock probably kept me alive through my efforts to get here, plus whatever time I spent asleep or healing. My stomach would be starving, soon. My limbs were going to be on fire from pain in a few hours if no one had given me any medicines.

 _But most importantly, how did I survive all that time alone and unconscious?_

"... very well." Cullen relented, though his expression told me it was only just. "I'll see about gathering the council. For now, rest. Solas mentioned he would tell the others, so… be prepared."

"Noted," I said quietly, my gaze still on the ground. The Commander hesitated a little longer before he sighed and walked out of the tent. My eyes closed again and warm tears slipped down my cheeks as one palm came up to catch my forehead as my head fell forward. Gently, I tipped over to my side and rolled back into the cot, silent as my sorrow rocked through my shoulders and chest.

 _A week._

I could have died in that cavern. Demons or animals could have found me, Venatori or other some such could have snooped far enough through the snow and killed me where I fell. My palms wiped at my cheeks, the bright glow of the Mark flashing with each pass. _Would if I could rip this fucking thing out of my hand._

"That would be painful, if you did." Cole's gentle voice floated over to me. My bones jumped under my skin and I looked up, spying the spirit in the far corner of the tent, crouching on the crates. A hard sniff cleared my nose and I attempted to sit up again. Cole's form disappeared from the crate and came to the stool, his hand on my hip.

"No, don't." He held me down, his multi-facet eyes flickering over my face. "Stay still. Pained, panicked, petrified – you're hurting. I can't help this time, but you shouldn't make it worse."

"I thought," another sniff, quieter this time with another wipe to my nose with my wrist, "I thought Solas said you were worried about my Mark?"

"Worried?" Cole shook his head, kneeling into the ground, his arm resting on my side. "Distracted, distressed, disturbed. It's new now, it asks for more but it listens, it only takes what it is given. I don't want to give it anything."

Weakly, I laughed. "Like the cloth disappearing in my palm? What's gonna happen if I hold a weapon?"

"You can control it, now." Cole explained patiently, his eyes dashing to my hand on the pillow. "It's yours, no longer a foe, but not a friend. Not an open door, but a stranger knocking at the door."

"So… It's only going to work now if I ask it to work?" I shifted in the cot, facing him at a third turn. His arm came away from my body, huddling next to his side, but he remained kneeling close, his hat obscuring his face from me.

"Something changed. It's more, now. It knows better. It will still – take from you, but not as much, because now it will take from others, too." His head tilted and he fingered a few rocks in the dirt under my cot, distracted.

"Will it hurt you?" I asked quietly, worried.

He shook his head quickly. "No. Unless you want to hurt me?"

"Never," I breathed, an unfathomable ache twisting in my chest, "I couldn't do that to you after what you've done for me."

A small smile peeked from under the brim of his hat. "Then it won't hurt me. Just when you were sleeping, your memories made it angry, so it was swallowing everything it could."

"My memories… Cole, could you see those?" I reached out and pulled up at his hat lightly, catching his eye.

"Not clearly. They're stolen away, muffled and buried, but not erased. Not all of them." He paused, the one eye I could see considered me and he looked down with a twinge of shame, humming something.

I recognized the song, and chuckled. "My mom used to sing that."

"I like it." Cole answered readily, his hands in the dirt. "I couldn't see her. She's bright. Sunlight, sunbursts, and sunsets. Warm and happy, here and gone and back again."

"Yeah," I replied, fresh tears in my eyes. "Yeah, she is. I miss her."

"You are a lot like her." Cole murmured into the quiet tent, glancing up at me fully. "Not bright. Not like her. But always. In and out, constantly going, running, changing. Clouds against the light, here and gone, bright and dark."

I huffed, pacified somehow. "... thank you, Cole."

"I didn't do anything." Cole answered, and in the next blink he was gone. The silence settled in my tent like falling dust, but there was less of a taste of desperation in it. My body shivered in the loneliness and I hurried to snatch my blanket back. My head fell back into the small straw pillow and in a few breaths, I slipped back into sleep.

-0-

Cottonmouth greeted me when I awoke, my throat about as sandy as my eyes. Hard blinks did nothing to help clear up my vision, so I sat up half-blind and searching with a flailing hand. A hard grip swallowed my fingers and it took me seconds to realize a few of the fingers were missing.

"Bull," I breathed, trying to look up at him. The fires from outside must have been burnt low or the night had gotten deeper, because I could barely see him in the dimness of my tent.

"Heya, Boss." He greeted me, voice heavy either from sleep or consideration. The faint scrape of fabric reached me, the tips of his horns most likely catching the roof of the tent. My other hand reached out as I sat up and found his bicep, the muscle twitching under my palm.

"Fuck, you're real." I swallowed my choked words, head bowing. "Christ, Bull, I'm –"

"If you're about to tell me you're sorry, I'm knocking you back out." He rumbled, amused. "How you feeling, Boss?"

"Like something shit me out, dude." I murmured into the darkness. His arm shook slightly under my hand as he chuckled. The grip he had on my other hand loosened and he used it to shift away slightly before reaching for my legs and helping me adjust into a full, upright sit.

"Well, I didn't get to see you before you were quarantined to the tent, but rumors say the same." He teased, releasing his contact on me. "Guess it's a good thing I waited until I _couldn't_ see it."

"You're an asshole, did you just come here to make fun of me?" Relief flooded me, my desperation easing with each passing sentence. I was floored and adored the man in front of me for treating me like everything was normal, that I hadn't just nearly died, that the world hadn't just gone to shit.

"Absolutely." Bull retaliated, his words practically painting the sight of his grin in my mind's eye. "Can't have you getting all high and mighty now because you survived a shitstorm of insane proportions."

"Right." I snapped, fighting a smile. "Let's not give the Chantry more to denounce me with, is that it?"

"Considering that you faced off with a self-proclaimed god, and then lived to tell about it," I could hear him rub at the stubble of his chin, "yeah, they're probably going to try and exorcise you."

"Does that exist here?" I muttered with a shake of my head. My hand moved from his bicep to the edge of his shoulder, my fingertips pulling at his skin lightly. Obligingly and without much more prompting, he shifted again, closer. The heat of his torso warmed my shins and knees, my palm fully resting in the curve of his shoulder.

My teeth clenched and I gripped it briefly.

"Deep breath." Bull ordered quietly. I followed along and exhaled after a few seconds. "There you go. Do you want to talk about it?"

I hesitated, my hand slipping slightly from his shoulder. "... I don't know. I don't know how."

"That's fair." He murmured. He exhaled softly, legs spreading out, his knee touching my foot on the ground. "From the sounds of it, you almost died. _Again_. Really need to learn to be a thrill-seeker without the death, Boss."

"They don't really provide safety nets for dragons or demons, you know." I retorted softly, pushing at his shoulder with my fingertips. A rumble went up his chest and his index finger flicked at my knee.

"Yes they do," he answered, his words conveying worry and warmth all at once, "it's called The Iron Bull." My heart took a dive through my ribs and into my stomach before it swelled back up under my throat. The grip from his shoulder had slipped back to his bicep and my fingers trembled against his skin.

"I'll remember to take you along next time." I struggled through the words, solace running through my blood, warming my ears and neck down to the small of my back with rolling embers.

"How about you just take me _every_ time?" He teased, poking at my knee again. "Because according to Adan, you look like a broken penis."

"Wh-what the fuck?" I sputtered, laughing, my ribs protesting angrily with fire and brimstone. "Fu-fuck, I hate you – fucker, _ow!_ "

Bull's laugh echoed through the tent, and despite the pain I was in, I was at peace.

-0-

It was morning when Mother Giselle came to find me wiggling from a nightmare in my cot. Blearily I awoke to her gentle prodding, her hands soft against my bare skin as she bathed me and re-dressed my bandages around my chest. Most of the time I spent wincing, breathing gingerly with four broken ribs, binds keeping them in place.

My arms were covered in bruises and lacerations. My left arm looked like something out of a horror movie; webbed and shiny pale skin left behind after burns healed. Nervously, I glanced at the rest of my figure as Mother Giselle prepped easier clothes for me to wear. My torso had a ghastly hematoma that twisted from my hip, up along my back and to my shoulder and neck.

"I feel like a stump," I grumbled quietly to Mother Giselle, "I can't move."

"The body needs to heal, so it does its best to keep you still." Mother Giselle murmured, rubbing a salve into my skin behind my neck and in between my shoulder blades. "We are grateful that despite your bruising, your actual injuries are minor."

"I'm alive, that's what matters." I answered, straightening my back. She glanced at me briefly, humming as she moved away and picked up the spare clothes.

"Alive, yes. But please remember that the mind needs to heal as much as the body." She replied, her hands carefully maneuvering my arms around into the tunic sleeves. The pants were trickier, my knees were rocks and every pull of my muscles burned with hundreds of tiny fire-ants.

"Adan will have your poultices ready soon." Her fingers ran through my hair and combed through the damp strands, braiding them down my back. "He was not sure how much to give you, but now that you are relatively coherent, we will be able to manage your pain better."

"Yeah, I appreciate it." I mumbled thankfully. She helped me to my feet with a strong grip, my knees shaking as I stepped into my boots. Stepping out into the sunlight hurt, the light spearing my vision and with a hiss, I ducked my head and marched with Mother Giselle to the council tent.

Soldiers milled around me, hands full with supplies or tents, blankets and lanterns. All of their faces looked gaunt and weary, drawn pale and hollow by the situation. Morale had shot low in the last few days, it appeared, and I wasn't sure how we were going to bring it back up. I saw none of my companions on the walk to the tent, but that was perhaps for the better.

Josephine's gasp was the first thing to greet me as I entered. My Hydra and Cassandra stood from their chairs and I waved them off once I took a moment to bid farewell to Mother Giselle. Cullen brought up the only chair with a back for me to use and gratefully I fell into it, wincing as my weight shot pain up my spine. _That was stupid._

"Herald?" Cassandra prompted.

I swallowed, laughing weakly. "Stupidity. I forget I'm broken."

No one else shared my humor. Glancing at them, it was clear stress had done the worst to them. Cullen and Cassandra shared deep bags under their eyes with strained mouths and heavy chins. Josephine's hair was unkempt, her clothes wrinkled and dull. Leliana seemed the most drained of them all with gaunt cheeks and a lame brow over her eyes; those same eyes were low and lightless.

"Let's start from the top, shall we?" I prompted them back into the world of the living. Whatever depressive spell had captured them was snapped. Cullen cleared his throat and shared a look with Leliana.

"Most of our agents had fallen back, once the first group was lost." She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze avoiding mine. "I awaited more information, but the disturbance had gone silent. Then, the drums and battle-bells. Oswald came back, but _only_ him of his group."

"It was enough." Cullen interjected, watching Leliana slip into a dark scowl. Cullen turned to me, wincing as his hands pulled at his thigh plate. "It gave us a bit of time to know the mass that was approaching, but not why, or what demands they were making. We didn't know they were mages until our friend appeared at the gate."

"Did anyone get his name?" I asked my group, glancing between them.

Josephine nodded, "Yes, Herald. Altus Dorian Pavus, of House Pavus in Qarinus, Tevinter Imperium."

"You're shitting me," I breathed in surprised, " _Tevinter?_ A legit Tevinter mage? What the fuck is he doing out here?"

"Hmph," Josephine's nose turned up a bit, "he didn't say, only stated he wanted to speak to you directly when the chance arose."

"Great." I exhaled, rubbing at my knee out of nervousness. _A Vint? What the hell?_ "I'll see about getting to chat him up later, but right now, he's on the back of the stove. Keep an eye on him, will you?"

"Noted," Cullen and Cassandra answered simultaneously. Leliana nodded quietly.

"Next?" I asked, my gaze on Cullen to continue.

"Well, from the point of their arrival to you leaving the Chantry for the diversion, we know." Cullen fidgeted again with his armor, hands tight on the edges of the plate. "You left, Roderick led us out behind the Chantry to the path he mentioned. Leliana was already there."

"Luck, unfortunately." Leliana murmured sourly, arms tight across her chest. "We had kept the bulk of our supplies down in the dungeons of the Chantry for the celebration, to keep them safe. In the end, it served us better, as we were able to get them out quickly."

"Cullen and I assisted with assuring our population managed to escape, but not all of them did." Cassandra interrupted heatedly with raised hackles. She growled, her hands balling into fists over her thighs. "A good portion of our people stayed behind in the first part of the battle."

"Civilians," Josephine lamented quietly, "They were the first to take up arms, and of course… the first to fall." A headache was forming behind my eyes and my right hand came up to pinch the bridge of my nose quickly, hoping to avoid a full migraine.

"Do we know who and how many?" I murmured behind my hand.

"Not yet." Leliana and Cullen answered, both stiff and uncomfortable.

Cullen sighed. "We'll have those names for you once we manage to count heads. As it is, we're doing our best just to stay alive out here."

"I got ya." I soothed him with a small wave of the same hand that came to my nose. My ribs protested and I inhaled sharply at the pain. My voice tightened briefly, "So then all there is left is my end of the story?"

"If you wouldn't mind." Cassandra graced me with a worried frown.

"Well, to start, someone's gonna need to talk to Varric." I gave Leliana a pointed look for the brief second she made eye contact with me. "Because he's got the other half of the story. Abridged version; Corypheus is The Elder One, old magister from ancient Tevinter."

The room went colder than the snow outside and it was tempting to open the flap and allow _some_ semblance of warmth to seep through. Cullen and Leliana's eyes had gone deathly dark and Cassandra was vibrating next to me. Josephine held her composure, but her skin had paled around her mouth.

"Odd," Cassandra growled, "that we would have a Tevinter magister already in our company."

"Well now," I held a hand out to stop her, "let's not jump to conclusions just yet. All the facts first, okay?"

"Agreed." Leliana seconded. "Continue, Herald."

I raised my Marked hand, "He's after this thing. Apparently it's actually a magical artifact that he was preparing for years to use as a gateway into the Fade. Somehow, I ended up getting it stuck in my palm." Cassandra's shoulders stiffened just beyond my peripheral vision and I winced; _ah, right. Maker sent, probably not._

"I don't imagine he explained how it got there or how it works?" Cullen replied ruefully.

"Not on my life." I snorted, closing my fingers around the Mark, letting the light flicker through my fingertips. "Solas says he might have some idea, but he's out on the count for that one."

"Corypheus failed to reclaim this artifact, as your hand still possesses its power and you are alive." Leliana deduced, gesturing to my hand with a tip of her chin.

"It's ruined, according to him, yeah. Somehow its connection to me spoiled it, but I got nothing to compare — wait." I hesitated, my memories flashing through my mind like jumbled puzzle pieces. "I'm forgetting — he had something similar, I think, but he was holding it, in his hand. It must have been a pair..."

"A similar object?" Leliana questioned, leaning forward in her seat. "How could you know?"

"He was using it to open my hand to try and get the Anchor out." I muttered darkly. My right thumb pressed into the Mark of my hand and rubbed against the chasm roughly, attempting to relieve an itch. "Round, about the size of my head, with grooves all over the surface. It looked glossy, but I wouldn't bet on it being glass."

"Hmm." Leliana tapped her chin. "I'll have to talk to Solas about this, see what speculations he has."

"Beyond that," Cullen redirected us, a hard gaze pinned on me, "how did you survive the avalanche? We could see it from the mountainside, it had consumed everything."

I sighed and rubbed at my forehead. "I almost didn't. When the avalanche started, I was already running. I tripped and fell into a cave system under Haven, I think."

"The mines." Josephine nodded with a pained smile. "Yes, we had abandoned them because they were hazardous after a few collapses."

"I saw those. I —" How much was I going to tell them? If I wasn't willing to tell Bull, or Solas, I couldn't see myself telling the room at large about my experience in the cold cave, alone and in a desperate depression. I swallowed, "... From what I knew, I had only been down there a night, I was unconscious from the fall."

Cullen and Josephine winced, but everyone's gaze followed the length of my bruises over my face and neck, hidden away into the mouth of my tunic. My shoulders shifted, a fidget working its way up from my stomach at the stares. My arms crossed over my chest, one hand holding onto the opposing elbow.

"So, when I came to, I — fixed myself up and walked out of the cave. This came back to life." I raised my hand, the Mark clear and bright in the dimness of the tent. "I got outside into the storm and then just walked."

"Walked?" Cassandra took a quick look at me, bewildered. "But, we had a storm sometime during that week!"

"I know." I deadpanned with a glance at her. "It's a miracle I didn't get frostbite."

"Why didn't you stay in the caves until it was over?" Cullen asked, just as confused.

"With demons?" I replied, my brow raised high into my hairline. "There were demons there, because of this thing on my hand. I couldn't wait there with no weapon. Frostbite seemed easier." This was not the conversation I wanted to have, I didn't want to talk about the nightmare of that whole experience, or the fucked up emotions that came from it.

I pushed on, "In any case, I got out, walked my way here, and then you found me. End of story." My group eyed with me with varying levels of disbelief and suspicion, but the title of Herald was still firmly on my head, so the questions that rolled behind their eyes remained silent.

"Quite a tale." Cassandra broke the silence with clipped words, turning away from me. "But we are still in the same position as before, with an unknown enemy, with his whereabouts just as unclear."

"He's controlling that dragon." I added, leaning back in my seat. "He probably gets around that way. We know he's a mage, at least, but we're going to need to follow up with Varric."

"We _needed_ Hawke." Cassandra growled, sidelining my input, but it seemed like her sharp words were directed to Leliana. "Had he been here as we originally planned, we'd have a better understanding of this creature."

Leliana frowned, twitching a bit with her chin. "There is no guarantee that Hawke would know this Corypheus better than Jaime would. By the sounds of it, Varric is our best lead."

"He won't answer us truthfully." Cassandra retaliated with heat, straightening in her chair. The three of us that remained apart from the conversation, leaned away, surprised by the display. "Our last attempt to find the Champion brought us to nothing, because that dwarf is so _intent_ on protecting the man than seeing the greater issue!"

"Cassandra," Leliana nailed her with a hard stare, "now is not the time. We'll —" Cassandra stood from her seat and twisted around me to storm out of the tent. My butt nearly bounced from my chair at her swift departure. Confused, I turned to my remaining Heads.

"I will handle it," Leliana dismissed my confusion, "then, from this point forward, I would deduce that our priorities are shelter, food, and then people."

"Yes." I answered, nodding with uncertainty. "Let me know if anything comes up, or if we can reach out to the Hinterlands or Orlais for a place to stay."

"I shall inform you at once, Herald." Josephine answered quietly, her hands twitching to make notes, but absent her normal parchment and quill.

I stood with another nod, "See that you do. I'm going to head out and make the rounds before I pass out again."

"Let us know if you require anything, Herald." Cullen called after me, his voice lost within the tent as I exited into the snow. A heavy sigh escaped me, my back was on fire and my chest down to my hips cramped from pain. My eyes closed tightly and with another exhale, I trudged out into the snow.


	33. ACT II: Shelter

**ACT II:** _Shelter_

* * *

 _Author notes at the end._

* * *

"What would you have me tell them? This isn't what we asked them to do!"

 _The fuck?_ _Why is Cullen yelling?_

It took a few moments to find control of my hands to bring them to my face, rubbing at my crusty eyes as comprehension fought for dominance over my grogginess. A hard rub of the heels of my palms blurred my vision, but allowed my eyes to open. I found myself staring at the ceiling of a tent and the memories of the last few hours swallowed me.

"Oh." I breathed, shuddering. " _Fuck_."

"We cannot simply ignore this! We must find a way!"

 _There's Cassandra_. I winced, her voice was closer than Cullen's, or she was just louder. Like a hungover fool, I shifted my hips on the cot and tried to search for my companions, wondering what triggered their argument _this_ time. Once up and sitting in my cot, my council was found by the campfire near my new tent, huddled amongst themselves, snarling into each others faces.

Well. Cullen and Cassandra were snarling. Leliana and Josephine seemed to be the ones holding onto their leashes.

"And who put _you_ in charge? We need a consensus, or we have nothing!" Cullen snapped, gesturing with a wave of his hand to the camp around him.

"Please, we must use reason!" Josephine interjected, holding her hands out between Cassandra and Cullen. "Without the infrastructure of the Inquisition, we're hobbled —"

"That can't come from nowhere!" Cullen barked back, frustration winning out over manners.

"She didn't say it could!" Leliana retaliated, the first time I had ever heard the Spymaster raise her voice. I leaned back in my cot to bring my legs over the side, quiet and invisible. _Things must be dire if Leliana's got to shouting, too._

"Enough!" Cassandra commanded, glaring at the small party, "This is getting us nowhere!"

"Well, we're agreed on that much," Cullen spat sarcastically, detaching himself from the rest of the council and running an angry hand through his hair. The rest of the group watched him go before Cassandra threw her hands up into the air, annoyed.

"Shh," a hand came to rest on my knee, startling me to look up and finding Mother Giselle next to me, "you need rest."

"Holy shit," I whispered at her, catching my breath, "you scared the crap outta me."

Mother Giselle chuckled, patting my knee. "Of all the things you've seen, I would not place myself in the most frightening."

"W-well, that's fair." I shared her chuckle, weakly. My fingers scratched at the base of my skull, digging into my hairline. "How long have they been at that?"

"A few hours since you laid to rest." Mother Giselle nodded over to them, her hand slipping from my knee with a sigh. "But they have that luxury, thanks to you. Our enemy is still missing, and with time to doubt, we are now turning to blame. Infighting may threaten us as much as this Corypheus."

I gave her a hard blink, confused. My hand paused. "How…?"

"Ah." Her full lips tugged into a sad smile. "The Commander had shared the information with the soldiers. He deemed it necessary we know what we are up against."

"That makes sense." I muttered, my hand dropping from my head. Another pause, a dire question at the tip of my tongue, wariness and fear making my tongue heavy with hesitation. "Do we have any word from other cities about possibly sheltering us?"

She shook her head, hands folded in her lap. "We are not sure where _we_ are, so any other cities are reluctant to pull the resources we need to travel to a new home."

"Damn," I murmured breathlessly, running my hands over my face, knees pressed together to keep myself from shaking. No one would take us with a shadow of an enemy over our head. The Inquisition couldn't be trusted to actually hold its own after that battle. How much of the mage forces did we actually smother in the snow? How many of them survived? Did Corypheus get through the avalanche, or did he die in it? _Fuck, there's so many blind spots._

"That, or you are believed to be dead, and no one is looking to risk their city for mere foot-soldiers." Mother Giselle added, her brows high on her forehead as she read my thoughts. "Or without Haven, we are thought helpless and left to die. Or the enemy is near and girds for another attack." She, like me, shared the same train of thought: any number of things could have happened to keep us safe, but there was no guarantee it was going to be enough in the long run.

My attention returned to my scattered council, Cassandra had taken to a table, scrolls of information thrown open in her haste to find an answer. Cullen stood away, shadowed in the tents with his arms crossed as he spoke quietly to one of the soldiers. Leliana and Josephine shared a spot by the fire, their voices muffled between them. My other companions had disappeared into the folds of what remained of our people, helping where they could or licking their own wounds.

"We need to do something," I murmured into the air, "we can't just sit around and wait for someone to save us."

Mother Giselle considered me with a hum. "Our leaders struggle because of what we survivors witnessed. We saw our defender stand," she glanced at me with a sad smile, "... and fall."

"But I came back." I replied gently, uncertain of her lecture.

She shook her head. "And that is just it. The more the enemy is beyond us, the more miraculous your actions appear. And the more our trials seem ordained." My hands gripped the edge of the cot, words spooled at the tip of my tongue, ready to spring the truth. _Ordained_ we hardly were, but I hadn't yet noted a change in the Inquisition. The council may have decided to keep the secret of the Mark's origins.

 _Damn it._

"That is hard to accept, no?" Mother Giselle prompted me quietly, ducking her chin to catch my eye. "What _we_ have been called to endure? What _we_ , perhaps, must come to believe?"

"... how much do you know?" I asked, guarding my reply. A knowing smile came to her lips and she shrugged a shoulder, the firelight playing across her face like fingers caressing her skin as she moved.

"Of Corypheus' attempt to assault the heavens? All of it." She turned her gaze back out to the camp, my shoulders slumped with relief. She huffed lightly, "Your council deemed it wiser to be honest than to continue on false pretenses. To allow the people to believe what they saw fit."

"That could come back to bite us," I scoffed and released the death grip on the cot, "fanatical belief is what got us here in the first place. Ours and that monster's."

She paused, her eyes studying me. "If we recall, scripture says magisters, Tevinter servants of the False Old Gods, entered the Fade to reach the Golden City, seat of the Maker."

"Mother —" I went to interrupt her, I didn't need another lecture on a religion that had started the mess. Mother Giselle's gentle and scarred hand rose from her lap to silence me, her expression softly patient. Quietly, I settled, my shoulders tucked close and my mouth shut.

"For their crime, they were cast out as Darkspawn." She continued evenly, her hand returning to her lap. "Their hubris is why we suffer Blight, and why the Maker turned from us." Her back straightened and for a moment, her voice was lost into the light of the fire, the shadows growing larger as the fire dimmed. A beat or so passed before she sighed.

"For me, Herald… If such is the claim of this Corypheus, he is a monster beyond imagining." Another pause, her jaw working to find her words and a cold sense of humility and shame curled at the bottom of my gut. _Of course. This isn't just my nightmare. It's theirs, too. The faithful now know the reason for their abandonment… shit._

"All mankind continues to suffer for that sin." She brought her gaze back to me and weakly, my own rose to meet hers, my sense of self shrunk and wilted at having accidentally insulted the woman. A trembling smile graced her lips, "If even a shred of it is true, all the more reason to believe Andraste would choose someone to rise against him, no?"

 _I can't just… shoot her down._

"I can understand that." I answered lamely. "But… we can't just — we can't just run on faith. We need more than that. Faith didn't save Haven. Faith didn't stop the mages. Faith —" Shame and anger bubbled under my lungs and I stood on shaky legs. I hated arguing with the faithful. I wanted to avoid arguing religion. I avoided it for a reason, because the theology made sense to me, but the _belief_ did not.

My feet carried me out from the cover of the tent and I helped myself along with my hands pushing against the supports of the tent. The fire sparked and sputtered as a soldier placed more logs into the flames, illuminating the area. My council remained separated and avoidant, my own hopelessness returning at the sight of their withered wills and crumbling strength.

 _It's all falling apart now._

I didn't even know where to start. I didn't know how to rebuild anything more sophisticated than a Jenga tower, and my graphic design skills built worlds from nothing up to the skies, but that couldn't be used to rebuild _people_. Not real ones, anyway.

And this world had become _extremely_ real to me.

Mother Giselle's voice rose up behind me, a haunting Cathedral's echo to her voice that reverberated through the snow and the walls of the rocks that hid us. A shudder ran through me, but I only half heard the words as she sang. She walked toward me and gently, she threaded her arm through mine and leaned into my side, her voice now vibrating into my ribs.

Leliana's voice followed, much to my surprise. Soon after, so did Cullen's voice. With Mother Giselle by my side, the soldiers and workers echoed the hymn and the music rang in my ears. They slowly approached and circled the fire at the center of the camp, a few of them saluted me or bowed their heads as they approached. Dumbfounded, I couldn't do much more than nod my head at them.

Not long after, the steady wave of Maryden's voice floated up through the words, followed quickly by Blackwall's deep thrum and Sera's gentle twittering voice. The sound of their voices had tears prickling the corners of my eyes and I raised my chin to keep them at bay. The gentle hymn soothed ragged throats and as it drifted to the end, the voices began to cheer and chatter with their newly lifted spirits.

In the blink of an eye, Mother Giselle had turned despair into hope.

"Faith is made stronger by facing doubt. Untested, it is nothing. Though my faith is different than yours, never forget that it was _your_ faith that brought you back." A sharp glance of my gaze found her face, awestruck. She smiled at me and pulled away from my side, her hand found my wrist and brought my hand up to her face, kissing the edges of my knuckles. She drew away and wandered into the crowd, leaving me rolling with chaotic thoughts.

"A word?" Solas' sharp voice cut through my mind.

"Yes, please." I choked, scrambling to catch my thoughts and follow him. We ducked behind the tents and treaded the thick snow carefully. Solas, I was astounded to see, was still barefoot. I would have to bring that up with him later, my mind decided obnoxiously. Out from the camp we went and Solas brought us to the rounding edge of the slope with a metal torch and covering stuck up slantways from the ground.

Solas' hand drew close to it and as it passed, Veilfire sprung to life, glittering against the snow with its tendrils flickering high into the air. The blue light kept the atmosphere gentle and no true heat came from the light, but it was enough to settle my nerves as I stood by my friend. With his hands behind his back, Solas turned slightly to face me at a third of his profile, his mouth drawn tight.

"A wise woman," he began, "worth heeding. Her kind understand the moments that unify a cause. Or fracture it."

"Tell me about it," the snark comment flew from my mouth, unchecked. "We're not quite fanatical, but I feel a few more songs and we'll be prime."

Solas smirked. "We? You, perhaps, though of them all, I would wager _you_ would be the last to lose your mind."

"You lost that wager, my friend." I joked, comfortable with the familiar tone of dialogue. A small chuckle escaped him and peaceful, comfortable silent rested between us. More than likely, Solas was offering me a moment to regain my bearings from being thrust into the spotlight as I had been with that hymn.

"Previously, I had promised to inform you if I found something that pertains to the orb that Corypheus used against you." Solas picked at my curiosity, leading my eyes to his face with the turn of his mouth. "In my efforts, I have found information that confirms the item in question is elven."

"What the shit?" I breathed, surprised. "How — did you find that out? What books did you save, my dude?"

"What matters now is that we can identify our enemy's weapon." Solas redirected me. A frown touched my face, it was mildly unlike Solas to pass up an opportunity to teach me something, but considering that the situation was dire, I let it go. _Ask him later, mental note to self._

"Well, then what is it _supposed_ to do?" I prompted instead, looking for a hole to wiggle information from him.

"It, like the orb that must have been absorbed into your hand, were foci, used to channel ancient magicks." He relaxed, his hands linked at the small of his back, his shoulders straighter with his gaze shifting from me to the Veilfire. "I have seen such things in the Fade, old memories of older magic."

 _Not books, then. That makes sense._

"So then…" My mind ran over the definition of the word, hoping it proved similar to my English one. "He used it to assault the heavens, but we got a destroyed Temple of Sacred Ashes instead. A bomb, kinda?"

Solas snorted, leveling me with a heavy-side eye. "A fair deduction, though unrefined. The orb originally supported and empowered lesser spells, or served as beacons to help maintain the structure of a spell."

"So it could be used for anything, then?" I speculated, my old D&D mage coming up from the depths of my memories. "It didn't have a main job, only what you wanted it to do? Use enough magic and you can poke a hole through anything."

"Exactly." Solas nodded, satisfied with my addition. "Corypheus used the orb to open the Breach. Unlocking it must have caused the explosion that destroyed the Conclave."

"Holy fucker," I shut my eyes and rubbed the heel of my right palm into one of them, "that means he must have been there when it happened, unless you can leave it behind with a set time to activate?" Solas gave me another strange look, much like the one I witnessed when I first mentioned the nightmare situation I had been in with the monster.

"That," Solas answered carefully, "I do not know. The memories are unclear of its finer details, but I would imagine for such an explosion to happen and go drastically wrong, he may have been there." I growled into my hands, rubbing both of them against my face rapidly, bringing heat into my cheeks. My palms rested against the sides of my face when I stopped.

"That son of a bitch," I cursed, "how the fuck did he get out of that mess?"

"I do not yet know how Corypheus survived." Solas muttered, equally frustrated. "Nor am I certain how people will react when they learn of the orb's origin." A wince ticked at my eye, because he was right. Much like in my old world, racism wasn't absent in this one. The elves, it seemed, had the worst of the cards from the deck, right alongside the mages.

"I can't have fanatical faith throw elves under the bus." I muttered with an instinctive glance back at the camp, knowing well that many of the people that worked with us were city elves or Circle mages that had escaped before the war had started. Leaving them to hang was not an option.

Solas scoffed, hands tight behind his back. "Corypheus may think it Tevinter. His empire's magic was built on the bones of _my_ people. Knowing or not, he risks our alliance. I cannot allow it."

My gaze returned with a blink. "Solas — if you know about something that can help us, now is right about fucking time."

"Yes," Solas muttered darkly, his gaze dashed to the camp behind us, "judging by the faithful, now _is_ the time. Come."

-0-

The next morning had what remained of our people packed up and in their marching boots. Solas had managed to convince Leliana and Cullen to trust in the memories he had wandered through in the Fade; of a stronghold a solid day's march from our position, to the north. It was a risk, because we had little in the way of food and if we got lost, there was no guarantee we'd be able to find another suitable valley in the mountain pass to shelter us again.

My two-cents of; _we're dead in the water anyway, so fuck it_ prompted them both to fall in line despite the circumstances. That very same attitude saved me from Corypheus, I unashamedly reminded them. Much to Leliana's displeasure at not having a solid plan or backup plan, and Cullen's worry over the accuracy of our scouting, we were off.

Cullen had taken Blackwall and Bull, with the Chargers, to direct and guide the main body of our parade of people. Varric and Sera had been tasked to stay with their group of scouts and waylay any dangers that came into their sights. Vivienne stayed with our not-quite-prisoner, the mage Dorian Pavus. As far as that went, if the laughter was anything to go by, they were getting along famously.

Cole had disappeared, though occasionally I could feel a presence at my back or at my right side (away from the Mark) whenever we stopped for a small break. Solas had sensed him, too, but made no mention of it aside from a tick of his nonexistent eyebrow. Cassandra stayed with Cullen and the soldiers, Josephine had been packed up on a cart pulled along by a bronto.

Speaking of brontos. Upon first seeing one in the clear morning light, I had damn near shit myself. It was hugely akin to what I knew as a rhinoceros, but higher at the shoulder by at least a foot. Mind you, I had never actually stood next to a rhino, but if the fucker was tall as a Clydesdale, we had a problem. Horns protruded all along it's face and back, I could only imagine how the Chargers had managed to _wrangle_ the damn things.

A story for another time.

True to Solas' word, it had taken us nearly all day to finally reach our destination. Determined to at least get my people there without collapsing and throwing all hope to the wind, I marched on until the first shouts from the scouts reached us. Two came dashing through the snow from a high cliff, making their way towards me as Leliana came up from behind.

"Did you find something?" Leliana asked from my side, the scouts were rosy-faced and grinning like Cheshire Cats.

"Aye, my lady." The woman saluted hastily and then jutted her thumb over her shoulder. "Just as the Herald said, we have a mountain's cliff to manage, but there's a stronghold just beyond."

"It's stunning," her partner injected, he just as breathless with excitement, "we can't yet tell how big it is but —"

"What do you mean?" Leliana interrupted, her brow in a frown.

"The stronghold's main entrance is over a long canyon in the mountains, but it looks to be nestled right up against the opposite mountain range, there may be a valley or some such behind it." The woman explained, gulping in as much of the thin air as she could. Leliana speared me with a look and I cobbled together a grin for her, exhaustion shoved into the recesses of my soul.

"Let's keep up, then." I entered the conversation, Leliana's face morphing a bit with turbulent thoughts. "One of you go get the other group of scouts, bring them back and find us the best way to it. Remember, brontos."

"Aye!" Both of them saluted, one dashed away toward the northeast where the other group had wandered off, and the other took bounding leaps of their legs to get through the snow and back up to where Sera waited for her, bow resting against her hip.

Like an amoeba, our traveling group shifted and redirected itself toward the northwest, keeping close together and pushing through the snow until the dying light of the sun setting met us at the top of the mountain. Solas and I kept ahead of the group, my eagerness to see the stronghold outweighing the pain in my ribs and the aches in my bones. My breath was coming up short and if it wasn't for Solas' attentiveness in keeping up with the restoration spells, I would have passed out a long while ago.

"There it is," Solas murmured as we breached over the top, the sunlight glittering over the snowcaps, "Skyhold."

The vision of the stronghold hit me with all the force of a maul. Gutted, I stumbled a bit down the slope as the enormity of the place engulfed me. The stronghold seemed to jut from the rock of the mountain under it, the gate house for the main entrance rested on a singular carving of mountain that stood before a chasm. The chasm broke the mountain range from one end to the other, not quite an even split, but it allowed Skyhold to sit in its nest of rocks on the other side safely, a valley sitting behind it, protected.

"Holy shit, Solas." I exclaimed breathlessly, turning toward him. "You saw _this_ in the Fade?"

"Not as dilapidated, but yes." He answered, briefly smug. "It had seen better days and now only sits here, waiting for a force to hold it. There will be much in the needs of repairs —"

"Are you and I looking at the same thing right now?" I said flippantly, turning on a heel to gesture with wide arms to the stronghold, my ribs snarling with pain but I ignored it happily. "Look at this beast! Christ, Solas, these things don't just _exist_ like this!"

He chuckled, leaning into his staff. "In _your_ experiences, perhaps not. I will grant you, though, that these are a rarity here, as well. Come, it seems the scouts have found us a way to the gate house." Gently, he took my arm and we moved ahead. The rest of our people had come around at a lower level with a wider opening in between the rocks to get the brontos through.

I only made it about halfway down the slope to the dip of the valley when my knees finally gave out. Solas' arm gripped mine instantly, but the awkward downward angle of the slope and the snow made it nearly impossible for me to catch my footing. Not wanting to have us both tumble down like morons, I let my arm slip from his elbow hook and rolled.

Fire immediately presented itself in my ribs, stealing my breath. Over the crunch and slithering hiss of the falling snow, I could hear shouts. There was a thundering pace that came my way and I shut my eyes, bracing for the possibility of colliding with whatever boulder had come loose in my miniature avalanche.

" _Vashedan!_ " Qunlat echoed in my head as a large pair of hands came under my stomach and arm to lift me up, cleared from the snow. A few surprised blinks brought my gaze back to focus, hard, painful gasps escaped me and I found myself held aloft by a highly bemused Iron Bull.

"I slipped." I defended, breathless.

"I cannot take my eyes off you for a damn day, can I?" He sighed. Gently and mindful of my ribs, he set me down on my feet, but didn't release my arm. Cullen and Solas were making their way down toward my landing site, but Bull waved them off. On his heel, he turned his back to me and with the arm he still held, brought my hand up to his shoulder.

"Bull?" I squeaked. I knew the gesture well, my father and brothers had given me plenty of rides on their back when I was still small enough to be carried without complaint.

"I'm not going to trust that you're gonna keep your footing this time. We still have another uphill to go before we cross the bridge." He explained and tugged on my fingers to prompt movement. A harsh shudder went up my stomach and choked my tongue to the back of my throat. Nervously, I stepped forward and tentatively placed my other arm on his empty shoulder.

"And up we go." Effortlessly, the madman hauled me up onto his back with his other arm hooking a leg to his hip. My stomach plummeted through my pelvis at the sudden increase of height as he stood, my legs secured around his hips and my arms desperately clinging across his broad shoulders. The pain in my ribs was muted behind the thunderous hammering of my heart.

"Fucking hell." I stammered. His arms hooked under my knees and he bent forward, I had to keep my face pressed to the back of his neck in order to avoid his horns as his head tilted and turned.

"See? Not so bad. Now we can't lose you again." Bull took one lumping step forward and I squawked as the jolt rattled my ribs. Solas appeared at Bull's side, a heavy frown on his mouth.

"Thank you for catching her before she got too far." Solas narrowed a stink eye at me. "I apologize for my misstep."

"You're okay, dude." I smiled at Solas from behind Bull's horn. "I should've kept my eyes on the ground and not at Skyhold."

"Yeah, well." Bull carefully brought us around a sludge patch and walked us back toward the group heading up toward the gatehouse. "It's getting to the point that I can understand why Cassandra needed a leash all those months ago."

I pinched at his clavicle. "Don't you start. That's not a conversation to be had."

"Not in polite company, at the very least." Solas added snarkily.

"You're not helping, Solas." I quipped, throwing his stink eye back at him. It was a nightmare to feel the rumble of Bull's laughter under my ribs and in my stomach. I blamed all the blood in my rosy face on the snow and the tumble I had taken. We plodded along easily (or Bull did, at least) through the snow. What remained of Haven's people slowly funneled their way up toward the gatehouse of the massive stronghold.

Up ahead and under Bull's horns, I could spot Cullen and Harritt hurrying their way up toward the main gate. Solas left Bull's side to aide them, fleet-footed over the snow and through the crowd of people. Between the three of them and Harritt's loud banging from a hammer, the ironwork gate was loosened. Cullen turned away from the gate and scanned the crowd until he found Bull, a quick wave signaling him over.

"Probably need you to lift the thing up." I murmured near his ear. Funnily, the tip of his ear twitched and his grip on my legs tightened, his patched eye offered nothing in the way of his expression, but the corner of his mouth pulled back and flattened.

"More than likely," he rumbled. At the gate, he turned his back to Cullen and knelt down enough for me to slip from his back. The Commander quickly took up my arm and kept me steady before once again passing me off, to Harritt this time. I grinned at the man.

"Funny how it takes you almost dying again to get you to behave." Harritt's voice was gruff, but his eyes flashed over my face in concern. The skin over my body was still bruised, in multiple stages of purple and blue, yellow and some red. Mirrors weren't readily handy and no one was in the mood to stare at me too long. A small shrug was all I could offer.

With Bull's help, Cullen and a few of the soldiers managed to lift the gate up enough for Solas to slip under like a limbo expert. He disappeared from sight and forced his way into the tower. Minutes passed. Bull stepped away from the gate to look up at some of the arrow loops that spotted the tower. There was a hiss somewhere deep in the stone and the gate groaned loudly before its weight began to draw up.

"I was just about to throw Krem up there and hurry it up." Bull jested. He turned to look for me and raised his eyebrows. "Think you can make it, or do you still need a ride?"

My cheeks were scalding. "I'm pretty sure we could put me in the cart with Josephine. Not like that's going to be any less dignified that being carried in by my bodyguard."

"Yeah, but it also means we get to go in first. Come on." He grinned at me and repeated his steps to have me attached to his back. Harritt helped me up this time and patted my shoulder sympathetically. Bull wormed our way toward the front and walked us through the crowd to the head of the procession where Cullen and Cassandra walked shoulder to shoulder.

"It doesn't stop, does it?" Cullen exhaled, enthralled by the size of Skyhold.

Cassandra shook her head. "If the scouts are right and there's a field or open valley behind the keep, this place will be ideal to hold off against our enemies."

"The only thing that makes me nervous is the background." Bull added once he was a pace behind them. Cullen and Cassandra turned to share a look with Bull, and his tipped his chin up toward the rocky peaks behind Skyhold, where the sunset was now almost completely gone.

"I suppose it doesn't stop anyone from repeating what we did at Haven, avalanching us in, but that would take too much time." Cullen nodded, gesturing toward the mountaintops and then down toward Skyhold's sides. "See? She's been braced to handle the impact of trebuchets, and separated well enough to avoid invasion."

"It would be quite a feat for someone to get over those walls." Cassandra peered over to one side, glancing between the stonework of the bridge to inspect the walls. She hummed with a frown, "I can see there are a few places that will need repairs."

"That's what Solas said," I peeked again from under Bull's horns, my chin pressed to the back of his shoulder, bottom lip nearly at his skin. "But I think the only issue there is getting the supplies in. This is a long walkway."

"It is, but it's not a concern." Cullen flashed me a brief, tired smile. "I'll have Harritt and Josephine start contracts. Once we get word out that we've re-established a fort to work from, they'll come."

Skyhold's shadow passed over us, the sunlight from the fading sun was gone and torches behind us started to dot the procession as people lit them up. One was quickly passed to Cullen and Cassandra each. We reached the main entrance and found the ironwork already open. Tentatively, Cullen passed under it, keeping a trained eye on the gate in case it suddenly decided to guillotine his head.

Same as before, he disappeared into the tower and there was a loud bang that echoed in the silence and through the keep. The gate rose steady, rusty gears shrieking in effort as the gate was fully retracted. The rest of us passed through once it was made safe and the mouth of the courtyard opened before us. In the night, there wasn't much detail, but the safety the walls provided was unexplainable.

Relief warmed my shoulders and dripped through the rest of my bones, I slumped against Bull's steady back and he patted my knee gently, another rumbling chuckle coming up from his chest. We walked toward one end of the courtyard and waited until his company escorted the last of the people through. Krem jogged up and nodded to us, his eyes on Bull.

"Got 'em all, Chief. Most of the supplies are dropped off now, Your Worship." Krem peered at me around Bull's head, staring at me for a moment. "... should we get a tent set up for you, Your Worship?"

"Please." I relented, for once not in the mood to be stubborn. "Thank you, Krem."

"Of course." He smiled at me and trotted off. Bull turned his head lightly and I shifted over to his right side so his good eye would be in view. I raised my eyebrows at him questioningly and waited. He shifted my weight on his back and shook his head.

"Lost the thought," he murmured and then chuckled, "do us a favor, though, no more wild parties."

"I am a party." I retorted through a yawn. My arms dangled lifelessly over his shoulders, my hands barely at his pectoral muscles. "Christ, I'm exhausted. Think anyone would mind if I slept for a thousand years?"

"I would only mind if you came back looking like that darkspawn asshole." Bull teased. "Take a nap, boss. I'll get ya to bed."

"M'kay. Thanks, Bull." My smile was pressed against his shoulder and I patted his chest affectionately, without a thought. Another rumbling chuckle was all I heard before I allowed my mind to wander and sleep to finally capture me.

* * *

 **Notes:** _I apologize to all of you for keeping this chapter for so long. I had a moment a few weeks (months now?) ago where I ended up losing my laptop, my phone, my bag all on the light-rail getting home. I'm safe and unharmed, but losing those valuable items has put a huge restriction on my writing and access to the webs. Thank you for your understanding._

 _No guarantee when the next chapter will come up, as I only managed to find 2 or 3 other pre-written chapters, the rest will be typed up at work on spare time. I appreciate your patience with the matter._

 _Thank you for coming back._


	34. ACT II: Acceptance

**ACT II:** _Acceptance_

* * *

My ribs were on fucking fire and my knees complained like they had been replaced with lead weights but I awoke with an eagerness that I hadn't felt since Christmas nearly a decade ago, my childhood happiness rushing through me. With some effort, my hips rolled me up from the cot I was in and upright. Hair in complete disarray and half dressed, I threw on boots and yanked my coat on before dashing outside, tunic, coat, and hair flipping in the breeze.

The ice in the wind hit me first, and then the sunlight that came from the side of the gatehouse, or a little off to one corner of it. The stonework rose up in mighty walls and shadowed the courtyard. My tent was neighboring a few others in the smallest yard just before the main entrance. My feet carried me with a heavy trot toward the secondary, inner portcullis that was raised up fully. It was the crack of dawn and people were already milling about, their hands or steeds weighed down with supplies, crates, or people.

A grin split my face and my breath caught in short bursts within my lungs as I trotted along the wall, my gaze following the cut, hard stairways up toward the higher walkways, I could see the other part of the courtyard not far, a sagging, dank stable house at one end with rows and rows of stables; a few already housing resting steeds (or some sleeping civilians). With creaky knees and a stitch in my side from ignoring the pain in my ribs, I hurried up the main stairway to the second level of the courtyard.

"Holy shit," it was beautiful, stealing my breath and heart all in one go. Buildings stood tall and solid, with minimal damage to their outside fortifications. I could see the Chargers by one of the smaller buildings, it looked like a tavern, and I jogged up to them. Krem spotted me first from the corner of his eyes and handed off the bags he was holding; grinning at me as I approached.

Honestly, I screamed for joy, loud and long and startling, running toward him like a child as happiness bloomed in my chest at the sight of him, whole and alive. Krem jerked in surprised, his arms fumbling with the full weight of me as I charged into him, hugging him fiercely. The lieutenant's barking laughter rang in my ears and he stumbled a bit to account for my injuries, cradling me into his chest, his arms careful around my torso as he returned my hug, surprised and charmed.

 _I'm so glad you weren't a dream from yesterday._

"Well, good morning to you, too, Your Worship." He laughed, pulling back and holding my shoulders affectionately. He winced, but his grin remained. "Maker, the Chief wasn't lying, you look horrific."

"Oh, fuck you, too." I smacked his arms away, gasping for laughter. "We made it — we did it! I wasn't dreaming!"

Krem flashed me a warm grin. "We did, all thanks to you. I wanted to say before; damn stupid of you takin' on a dragon by your lonesome, but I'm not one to argue results."

"If it looks stupid but it works, it's not stupid." I chimed happily. A hard snort escaped the lieutenant and I could see the eye roll even with the hand he raised to run through his cropped hair.

"Heavens above," he muttered teasingly, smirking at me, "too right you're a handful. Bless the Chief for putting up with your nonsense."

"Speaking of the devil," I asked, glancing around him into the tavern, then behind us back into the courtyard, "where is Bull?"

"Ah." Krem searched briefly and picked up a scroll left on a crate behind him. He opened and scanned it quickly, rubbing at his chin with the back of his wrist for a moment. "According to this, the Spymaster had him go out with half of the company to Orlais for supplies."

My shoulders sagged. "That asshole didn't even say goodbye."

"Why, miss him?" Krem teased, brows wiggling. He laughed at my scowl. "He left well before dawn. Skinner got impatient and Rocky needed to replenish supplies, so the sooner the better. He should be back by the end of next week."

"Holy fuck, how far are we?" I asked, eyes wide with surprise.

"A far distance, actually." Krem sobered and sighed. "On a map, we're not all that far from where the pilgrimage to Haven stopped, but we're higher in the mountain range, and it's a dangerous pass to get through."

A frown touched my face, "... so she sent Bull to clear out the pass?"

"You guessed it." Krem nodded, a confident smile on his face. "Rocky's our explosives expert. We had enough supplies to clear out the pass through the mountains, what with the avalanche and all, but he'll need more after, hence."

"Hence the need for him to leave and Bull to make sure his company is safe, I got it." I followed along. It wasn't as if survival was impossible without the Qunari around, but I had come to rely on his presence the last couple of days while I brought myself back up to speed. It was probably for the best, really, a leader couldn't be dependent on a mercenary commander for support.

I shook my head and glanced over Krem's face, "How is everyone else doing? Could you give me a report?"

"Of us?" Krem clarified, and at my nod, continued: "We're not too bad. We didn't lose any of _our_ men, thankfully. We tried to keep as many of your people safe as we could, Your Worship, but…"

"I know." I softened the blow, offering him a sad smile. "I heard about the civilian casualties. I'm thankful that you guys were there to help." Krem returned my smile with a gentle one of his own, but there was hesitation in his gaze, something that flickered through him as he searched my face.

"Something wrong, Krem?" I probbed, head tilting.

"... it's good to have you alive, Your Worship." Krem replied softly, the same hesitation in his voice. "Not sure — how our lot would have taken it, losin' you." The simplest, sweetest words and they had me melting into my bones with obnoxious tears swelling up into my eyes. A smile forced its way over my mouth and I gave him a watery laugh.

"Well, for one, I would have asked for a refund from the Chargers." I joked, and it spurred Krem out of his somber mood with another laugh.

"I suppose you would." Krem nodded, grinning. "In any case, I've got the men helping with supplies and clean up. The place isn't too bad, just left unattended for quite some time. We should have most of it cleaned up by the end of the week."

"Alright. I'm assuming you're letting Josephine know if you need anything?" I raised an eyebrow. The lieutenant nodded sharply.

"Aye. No sense avoiding it. She's got us clearing the courtyard levels to allow merchants to come settle, the sick are in that building over there." He pointed to one beyond my shoulder and behind me, glued into the furthest wall and nestled from the main thoroughfare.

"And everyone who isn't sick?" I asked, turning back to him. He turned on his heel a bit and pointed to the towers that were along the main walls facing the mountain range and surrounded the main gate.

"See those towers there? Every level has already been fitted with beds and what blankets we still had." He sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "Not an ideal place, but soldiers are the main company there. Commander Cullen's taken up the highest level near the gate as his office."

"Ah, good to know." I jotted the point down on my mental map to see if I could catch the Commander. The towers were tall and wide, allowing for a fair amount of space. We would need to look for a safer place for civilians away from the gates, but I hadn't explored the rest of the keep yet, so there was hope.

"Where are you lot staying?" I asked, curious where in the keep they managed to hide fifty plus men from a mercenary company.

"The dungeons for now." Krem grinned. "They're just through that door you see there. Yeah, that one. We're keeping there for now, until the valley behind the keep is cleared up."

I blinked, my attention snapping to his face. "Hold up, how big is that space?"

"Honest?" Krem rubbed at his chin. "About a league, give or take on the edges. Good place for tents and pilgrims. We can keep the merchants up here with the soldiers and give people a home behind the keep." It was very Arthurian, to have a keep that housed a small city of people in the future. It was a huge relief as well, knowing that our people weren't going to be first in line for the slaughter like they were at Haven.

Instinctively, I saluted Krem. "Good. Thank you for the update, Krem."

"Aye, Your Worship." He returned the salute readily. "Come to us if you need anything, Chief asked us to keep an eye on you."

"Of _course_ he would, because he's a nice asshole like that." I laughed. With a small tip of my head, I left Krem to his duties with the Chargers and fluttered back to my exploring. The keep was mammoth in both size and design. There was a bit in the way of wasted space, but that was my designer's brain talking. The land that the keep sat on was narrow and not necessarily wide. If I were to recall correctly, many of the old castles, forts, and keeps back on Earth were placed in much the same areas.

My anxiety was appeased the more time I spent wandering through Skyhold. The old faces from Haven gave my rolling stomach a strange sense of comfort and immense relief. Cabot was found in the tavern, grumbling about the missing product and having to order more ale for _moral support_. Flissa had taken up with the Chantry and stayed away from the tavern.

Seggrit had decided to be more hands on with the transport of refugees, so our recruitment of Bonny Sims came through as she had taken the reins to make sure the merchants had a place to set up and they were slowly starting to line up along the edges of the walls. Food supplies were piling up and the main keep was blocked off due to damage and mess. That would have to wait, but with the breakneck pace that our people were working, I was sure it would be cleared up in no time.

It was about midday before Vivienne found me. I was resting in the gardens tucked away further into the inner guts of the keep, secluded and peaceful. Some of the Chantry Sisters and Mothers had taken up residence in the rooms around the garden, using them as healing rooms or resting rooms for the severely wounded, traumatized, or dying. Morbid as it was, it was an atonement to be close to the people who had fought for the Inquisition.

I was also in mourning, having found out that Chancellor Roderick hadn't survived his wounds.

"Hello Vivienne." I greeted her easily, watching as the woman made her way through the garden's stone paths toward my bench. Her eyes widened marginally for a fraction of a second before she schooled her face into smooth concern, polite and tempered. She stood before me, her gaze inspecting my face.

"Maker," she exclaimed shortly, "you're a mess! Let me have a look at you." And for the umpteenth time, I had a pair of hands on my face and shoulders, turning my chin one way and then another as I was glossed over for injuries or fatalities. One would think that if I was well enough to go bounding around Skyhold like an excitable puppy, I was possibly nowhere near death's door.

Possibly.

"Are you all right, my dear?" She pursed her lips at me, the concern playing quietly through her words. "Were you hurt? You look dreadful."

I chuckled, "I must be doing better, if I don't look like a broken penis. I'm just fine, don't worry."

"You bear it well." She nodded approvingly, taking her hands back and folding them before her, arms resting at her sides. "Good. The troops will take their cue from your composure. Now…" I braced, waiting for whatever slew of points she had lined up in her lecture, as I was sure she hadn't missed the lift I had taken on Bull's back to get up to Skyhold. Or the tumble before that.

"Let's keep up appearances. Do not think anyone ignored your stumble in the snow." She eyed me critically. The words weren't as sharp as I had expected them to be, so I flashed her a cheeky grin. A small, amused smirk tugged at her lips and she flattened it out swiftly.

"You've handled this crisis competently, saving as many lives as you did." Her shoulders straightened as she glanced away to the Sisters that assisted with the wounded throughout the garden, her voice lower. "But the enemy struck a serious blow against you and the Inquisition. We _must_ recognize that. _You_ must."

"Vivienne." The grin slipped from my face and I wasn't sure what replaced it, but it was enough to give the Grand Enchantress pause, her eyes fluttering with a few hard blinks as she focused on me. "I'm not about to let what Corypheus did go unpunished. _Hundreds_ died. He's going to answer for that crime." The pause continued, Vivienne's sharp gaze studying me as if I had morphed in front of her into something new.

She smirked. "You're angry. _Good_. Anger can save you when everything else is gone." She didn't have to tell me twice. Though there was no way to rightly tell what, beyond pure desperation, had gotten me through the mines under Haven, but it was funneling into something else. Sitting in the gardens and listening to my soldiers and civilians groan or cry with agony or pain, it was fueling the darkening pit in my stomach.

Chancellor Roderick had been one straw of many.

"Our enemy is advancing, Herald. We must not sit idly by. Act first, and teach them to fear us." Vivienne continued firmly, her voice resolute. My heart stuttered in my ribs and with a flick, my gaze shot away to the center of the garden, watching a Mother sit with a bandaged soldier, his arm clearly gone and his torso nothing but scars. My Marked palm was hidden away in the fingers of my hand.

 _Fear isn't going to solve this, Vivienne._

"There are greater powers in this world than fear, Vivienne." I countered with quiet words. An eyebrow of hers shot up over her forehead. I sat up straighter, rolling a shoulder before bringing my weight to my knees and standing. "Fear, like love and hate and mercy, always spread. But. I appreciate the advice." Even if I managed to strike fear into the hearts of the Venatori or Corypheus (doubtful that rat bastard had a heart), it wouldn't stop there.

Sitting in the gardens and watching the Mothers work their skills, hearing the murmurs and desperate whispers, I had a better, greater perspective. The Inquisition would grow. The limits of our power and influence would expand. _My_ influence would expand. I could hardly afford now to be weak, but I couldn't afford to let the Inquisition turn into a dictatorship. If anyone had taught me a lesson about power, it was Spiderman.

And I knew _better_.

After my rest at the gardens and finally escaping the hawkeyes of the Chantry's deadliest Mothers, I found myself wandering around near the tavern again. At the edge of the second level looking down to the first, I could see the broad back of Blackwall. He leaned against the edge of the stonework wall, hands braced over the surface and his shoulders hunched. The day was coming to a close, it could only be assumed that whatever duty he had been assigned, he had finished.

 _Leliana managed to convince Iron Bull and Blackwall to retreat,_ Cullen's voice echoed through my ears, _but they didn't look like they wanted to._

Slowly and carefully, I made my way over to the brooding Blackwall. Glancing about the ground, there was a twig long enough to make a satisfying snap if broken, so I walked over to it. My heel came down on the twig and with its hiss of noise, Blackwall's shoulders tensed. Dark eyes came over his shoulder and found me, the tension melting from his frame after a moment. He dropped his head and his fists gripped tight, pressing into the unrelenting stone.

Another few steps and I was beside him, nervous. Instinct had me wanting to reaching out and reassure him, but common sense told me to wait. Something was rolling through him, a storm I couldn't see or weather for him. Moments felt like hours until finally he exhaled and slackened, his limbs jello at his sides. He didn't face me fully and kept his eyes on the courtyard below. I was at a loss for words, so like an idiot, I stood there, helpless.

"In my defense," I faltered, "I didn't leap head first this time. I was actually running _away_." A dark, choked laugh strangled him, something akin to what I had heard from Cullen back in my healing tent in the mountains. Pain and laughter, displeasure or disbelief, perhaps? I couldn't claim to know the workings of my mind, least of all the minds of others.

"I don't know what to think anymore." Blackwall replied, stepping away from the stone fencing. His gaze still avoided me. "We had gotten too far to get back to you, too many enemies had surrounded us, and the dragon…"

"Was a pretty big bastard, I'm not going to lie." I interrupted, wholly unnerved by the somber mood between us. Blackwall wasn't like Bull or Varric or even Solas, he couldn't snap to my humor like the others did, his form of coping was vastly different and I struggled to keep still under the weight of it.

"I was asking myself what you were thinking, standing against that thing all on your own. Did you even _try_ to run?" Blackwall's voice was hollow in his throat, sounding distance and utterly confused. Gently, I attempted to come into his line of sight, to catch his eye, but he was still too close to the stonework.

"Where was I going to go?" I asked quietly. There was no telling where he was going to go with this line of questioning. Last decent conversation we had, had been ages ago and since then we had been on eggshells. His duty outweighed his opinion of me or my lack of restraint and I was too much of a soulless chickenshit to actually patch the missing holes in our partnership.

"I don't know. Somewhere, anywhere." Blackwall muttered, the tension returning to his shoulders and neck. "And then the screaming… but you managed it — you brought Corypheus low and set out to do what you promised, destroying Haven."

"I — you're making it sound way braver than it actually was." I choked, hands laced together and fiddling over my stomach nervously. "I was shitting my brains out, I was so scared."

"But you still did it." Blackwall growled, though I was uncertain if it had been accusatory or not. "You still got to the trebuchet — you still faced him." I grasped at mental straws and strings, trying to figure out where he wanted to go, what he wanted me to say. There was something, a hint of rage or fury that boiled deep under his skin.

"I had to," came the weak reply, "I _had_ to. It was — you know, good math. One, for the many. Me, for Haven." Something snapped in him, something tight and coiled down in his throat that when it broke loose, he swallowed and shut his eyes, the muscles of his jaw and neck jumping in electrocution.

"And do you always think that?" Blackwall finally turned to face me. My lungs shriveled behind my ribs as his intensity was weighed against my gaze, challenging me to answer him. "Good leaders don't sacrifice themselves on _chances_. They don't throw all caution to the wind and _hope_ for the best. They look for options!"

"I'm not a good leader, Blackwall." I swallowed to rehydrate my lungs, letting them expand enough to breathe and steady my nerves. "And my choices may not always be good ones, but I make them because I can live with my decisions."

"And what about us? The Inquisition? Do we just forgive those decisions? Even the stupid ones?" He snapped low in his throat. We stared at each other, a tremble came through him as the storm passed through his eyes, anger and a fear that I recognized.

"A wise man once said," I began, leaning on the words of Bruce Lee, "mistakes are always forgivable, if one has the courage to admit them." It stopped Blackwall long enough for me to exhale and gather my nerves, holding them tight under my trembling heart. A cloud passed through his eyes, an emptiness I hadn't seen before. His shoulders went limp and a quiet, hollow chuckle followed.

"Not _all_ mistakes can be forgiven." He answered softly. "Death and murder, certainly not."

"If we're going to get philosophical here, you're in trouble." I joked weakly. "Look, Blackwall. I'm not… I'm not going to even presume to know what you've been through. What mistakes you've made, but hear me out, alright?"

"Herald —" He started, but I raised my hand and shut him off.

"No, listen to me. I've heard this undertone you've got every time you've spoken to me." I admitted, exhaling at the wrong time and choking as I tried to catch my breath, my voice tight and higher than it needed to be. "And if you've got something to say, you need to say it. You need to tell me what's got you so scared."

"I'm not scared." He immediately replied, waspish.

"That is exactly the tone of voice of someone who is," I deadpanned. Blackwall struggled, warring within himself to say something, either in retaliation or submission.

"Walk with me." He demanded, impatiently stepping around me and heading toward the stairway toward the main wall. "I want to examine the ramparts, take stock of our fortifications." One would never believe how heavily my eyes rolled in my head, but I kept myself mute as I followed him. The crowd on the second level courtyard had started to stop and stare at us. I knew he wanted to escape our audience.

We traveled up the stairs and through a tower. I skipped around a few soldiers to keep up with Blackwall. He had us stepping outside onto the ramparts, overlooking the main gate, the wind whipping at my coat and hair, forcing me to tuck a few strands to the back of my head, twisting the hair into a tail I held over my shoulder. Blackwall stopped and looked out over the ledge, his brow heavy over his eyes.

"... We'll be able to see Corypheus coming from miles away." He muttered. I hadn't doubted it. The deep valley swam before us and tapered off into a lake that bled between the mountains and possibly connected out to a massive river. Corypheus' only option was to come from above, or through our mouth at the main gate.

"He'll be hard pressed to take advantage of us this time." I replied, unsure of what else to say. My gaze shot to Blackwall's shoulder and up to his profile, patient. "He won't get the drop on us. Skyhold promises that much."

"Let him come. I swear I'll take the twisted bastard down, even if I have to die to do it." Blackwall growled, fisting his hand against the stone and pushing away from it. My right eye narrowed at him, squinting in the morning light. _Did we not just have this discussion?_

"You're being hypocritical." The snap was unintentional, but the feeling slipped by my lips without a care. Blackwall's molten gaze came to my face, but there wasn't much left of my fear to cower me anymore. It was one thing to point fingers, it was a different thing to point fingers when we stood in the same sinking boat.

"It's different." Blackwall groused. "I'm not a symbol to these people. I don't hold the whole blasted world in the palm of my _hand_." His finger jutted toward my side, with my instinctive jerk to hide my hand behind my back.

"And you think I'm ready to lose you?" I tossed back into his face. It was enough to derail him, his shoulders popping at my words and his eyes going wide. I had him, he _would_ listen to me now. "You think I can do this alone? Do you have any idea how limited I am in friends around here?"

"The Inquisition wouldn't abandoned their loyalty to you like they would to someone like me." Blackwall shook himself, his shoulders trembling before he straightened them, his voice croaked.

"I'm not talking about fucking loyalty here, you jackass." The words whipped, heat seared up my back as my knuckles rapped against my spine with a shake. "I'm talking about actual, _goddamn_ friendship. You think any of these soldiers legitimately care for _Jaime_ and not the Herald?"

"When they told me you weren't the religious sort, I ignored it. How could you not be, given the gift you were given." He glanced low at the sway of my hips and glared back up at me, mouth set tight. "Tell me honestly: are you what they say you are? Andraste's chosen?"

"No." I hardlined him, the corners of my mouth twitching with a snarl. " _No_ , and I never was, but that doesn't fucking matter now. What I _am_ is _their_ goddamn hope for _any_ sort of future, but I can't have you nipping at my heels for every shithead mistake!"

"I _nip_ at your heels _because_ of that!" He snapped, his arms twitching harshly at his sides. "Listen to yourself, despite not being what they claimed you to be, you _have_ become that, you're their only hope and I can't — we can't have you throwing yourself away." Immediately he reeled on his heels, inhaling deep and holding his breath, a technique I had seen some of the soldiers do to steel themselves.

Resisting my stubbornness, I took two small steps back and exhaled. My right hand came to join my left behind me, resting at the small of my back. It drew my shoulders straight and centered me. I hadn't fought with one of my companions before, it should have been a given: I wasn't going to get along with everyone.

Blackwall hadn't been one of the ones I thought I would butt heads with, and that had been short-sighted of me.

My shoulders relaxed, something dawned on me, coming up from the back of my thoughts.

 _We're the same,_ the thought wisped through my ears, _we're afraid. We're helpless._ I couldn't have my companions, my friends, throwing themselves at danger because of me, because without them, I wouldn't have a foundation to stand upon. I had been like that with Cassandra, but we hadn't fought as Blackwall and I did because she _knew_ her worth. She persevered because she was confident she could.

Blackwall and I didn't have that.

A laugh overtook me, startling Blackwall. My hands came up to my face and hid my eyes, the heels of my palms resting on my cheeks before smothering my mouth to clam up the laughter that escaped me.

"... Jaime?" Blackwall tugged at my attention, unnerved by the turn I had taken.

"You're a jackass." But I grinned at him past my fingers, hands still at my mouth. "... I hear you, Blackwall. I'm — I'm sorry."

"You — what?" Blackwall floundered, cheeks going red. "What part of the conversation are we on, because I think you've lost me."

"Oh, no, I know." I answered, one hand dropping to my side while my left came up to rub at my temple. "I just… realized. What you mean, I mean. Fuck, I mean — hold please." I held up a finger, bewildering my Warden further, his shoulders stiffening with confusion.

"Got knocked in the head for certain, now." Blackwall muttered, straightening a foot. "Or gone off on a potion, no doubt."

"What did I just say, huh? Shush it." I waved my left hand at him, taking a side step forward. "All I'm saying is… I get it. I — I'm sorry it took a shouting match to get me on the same page, but I get it."

"You get it?" Blackwall parroted with absolute disagreement, face a stone's surface. "Right."

"I _understand._ I get that you're worried about me, because yeah, from… from your side of the boat, it looks like I'm trying to sink us." I sighed, my left hand came to twist my throat. His eyes flickered between it and my face, waiting. "... but it doesn't matter if I tell you I'm not when I'm still doing shit that negates that."

He waited a second more before his shoulders slowly eased and his back relaxed, his mouth softening under his beard. A sigh brushed his lips. "... I didn't mean to shout."

"Yes you did," I grinned.

He fought his own, "... maybe a little. You're just — worse than a demon, I swear."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" I snipped, my muscles relaxing as the tension ebbed away from us. I doubted the fight was far from over, as our personalities would continue to clash, but for now at the very least, there was peace. We were waterlogged, but the boat wasn't sinking anymore.

"It _means_ that pretty face of yours hides a devil's worth of problems." He grumbled, shaking his head as his face flushed, turning to leave me on the ramparts. My laughter followed him out.

* * *

 **Note:** _I posted!_


	35. ACT II: Crowned

**ACT II:** _Crowned_

* * *

Two weeks had passed. Our first meeting was just starting.

"Is there a reason we're deciding to have this meeting here?" I questioned the room at large. The main hall to Skyhold had finally been opened up to clean up and construction work. The workers hadn't been allowed inside just yet, as our group had taken up what limited space there was as we inspected the work needed. Josephine's eyes were on the high stone walls and the tattered tapestries, Cullen's gaze snaked along the ground, minding the broken wood and battered tables.

Leliana's eyes were on me.

"This is where our promise turns into action." Leliana glanced past Cullen as he shifted past her. "The Inquisition was saved, but only _just_. We need to rebuild and make our stand."

"But what do we do?" Josephine interrupted beside me, writing slab tight in her hands. "We know nothing about this Corypheus except that wanted her Mark." Shadows fluttered over the floor as workers passed behind us, the sunlight sneaking through the open entrance. A wind caught up and whistled through our ankles.

"Corypheus wants to restore Tevinter." I recalled darkly, my right hand rubbing the palm of my left, my eyes to the ground. "Could this be the first step to war with the Tevinter Imperium?"

Cullen, ever the general, took my question, "I get the feeling we're dealing with extremists, not the vanguard of a true invasion."

"Tevinter is not the Imperium of a thousand years ago." Josephine added, leaning into the conversation. "What Corypheus yearns to _restore_ no longers _exists._ " Her candle burned brightly in the gentle shadows of the crumbling corpse of the hall. I resisted the childish urge to snuff it out with a huff; I smothered a misplaced grin instead.

Josephine was unaware, "Though, they would shed no tears if the south fell to chaos, I'm certain."

"Well, what about our not-prisoner?" I questioned, glancing over my shoulder as if the mage would appear at my heels. Josephine and Cullen spared me a look, but Leliana took her pensive thoughts and consulted the ground at her toes.

"With my net of birds currently in shambles, I have yet to confirm his intentions." Leliana pulled her gaze to my throat briefly, then up to my eyes. "He may be more willing to speak to you, though, as he may see you as a neutral party."

"I am hella far from neutral, Sister." I joked. "He's probably heard stories."

"True as that may be, you're unbound to any families or alliances he may be familiar with." Josephine hummed thoughtfully. "For someone of his status, he will be well versed in families, some treaties, alliances and the such, much as I am."

"And because you don't fit into any of those, practically appeared out of thin air, jest _intended_ ," Cullen swayed a bit away from Leliana's glare, his focus on my face with a grin tugging at his lips, "he would be likely more at ease to speak with you, erring on practicality. You've shown to be logical, at the least."

"At the least," I intoned, "Barring launching a trebuchet in my face."

"Hence," Cullen twittered with a hint of snark, " _at the least_."

"Ass." I clipped, my attention back to Leliana. "Coming back; Corypheus said he wanted to enter The Black City, that doing so would make him a god."

A terrible threat passed Leliana's eyes. "He is willing to tear this world apart to reach the next. It won't matter if he's wrong."

"What if he's not wrong?" Cullen shook his head, a hand on his hip. "If he finds some other way into the Fade?" Josephine and I shuffled together, our eyes bouncing between the two, our shoulders brushed up as we stood next to each other.

"Then he gains the power he seeks or unleashes catastrophe on us all." Leliana stated finally, brutal in the facts. Cullen's face scrunched around his nose, eyes wrinkled at the corners, a sigh escaping his chapped lips. I hesitated, my ribs trembling with a question.

"Um," my right hand rose for attention, "Could I ask? Do all dragons look like his, by the way?"

"No." Cullen immediately replied, his shoulders slumped. "Depending on breed and type, they can be different sizes and colors."

"Though…" Leliana paused, an index finger coming to curl over her chin. "The dragon bore some resemblance to the Archdemon from the last Blight."

"Maker," Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose, "the very last thing we need is _another_ Blight."

"Oh, let us not borrow trouble." Josephine tightened her jaw, fingers adjusting on her writing board. "We've seen no darkspawn other than Corypheus himself. Perhaps it's not an Archdemon at all, but something different?"

"Whatever it is, it's dangerous. Commanding such a creature gives Corypheus an advantage we can't ignore." Cullen amended, an apologetic glance over to Josephine. The woman next to me stiffened for a moment and I leaned against her shoulder, letting her go lax into my weight.

My hands ran up into my hair. _Varric knows._ The dwarf knew Corypheus, if not in origin, then at least in his first appearance, confused and violent in the depths of the mountains with Hawke and his sister. I swallowed, a seething heat curled under my heart, unsure of my next step.

"Someone out there must know _something_ about Corypheus." Josephine murmured.

"Unless they saw him on the field, most will not believe he even _exists._ " Cullen countered, shifting his weight to his back foot. My tongue was glued to the back of my throat. I _knew_ I needed to share what I had, but I also knew Varric had done everything he could to keep his friend out of the Inquisition.

Guilt started to bubble at my throat.

"We do have one advantage." Leliana set her eyes on Cullen, then to me: "We know what Corypheus intends to do _next_." I caught up with her, my eyebrows raising with my hands still in my hair. They dropped as the light bulb flashed over my head.

"The assassination attempt." I breathed, stunned. "Right, I saw that shit when we went to save the templars."

Josephine inhaled sharply. "Imagine the chaos her death would cause. With his army…"

"An army he'll bolster with a massive force of demons," Cullen growled, "now that he's acquired the mages."

"Corypheus could conquer the entire south of Thedas, god or no god." Josephine took a glance at me, my left hand her next stop before she reached up and rubbed at her temple, worry touching her smooth face. Leliana ducked her chin to her throat, brow tucked to her nose.

"I'd just feel better if we knew more about what we're dealing with." She murmured, tired and sore from the days events. A wince ticked at my eyes and my guilt forced me to relent, I _had_ to tell them, and I would apologize to Varric for it later.

"I know someone who can help with that," the dwarf's baritone echoed into the hall, stilling me. Startled, my group and I turned to spy the stout stride of my companion trudge up to us, his mouth and eyes strangled between amusement and terror.

He raised his hands, ever the entertainer. "Everyone acting all inspirational jogged my memory, so I sent a message to an old friend." Varric locked eyes with me over Leliana's shoulder. Tightly, my lips pressed together and I sighed, a horrid sense of relief doused my guilt. _It didn't have to be me._

"He's crossed paths with Corypheus before, and may know more about what he's doing. He can help." Varric played the part well, grinning at me like a knowing fool and a flush flooded up to my ears. _He's keeping me out of trouble. Fuck, now I really do owe him._ A forced smile took over my frown and I stepped between Leliana and Cullen.

"I'm always looking for new friends," I answered, practiced as if for hours, "Introduce me, please."

Varric's grin turned gentle as he nodded. "Parading around might cause a bit of a fuss. He should be here tomorrow. I'll have you meet privately, on the battlements. That all right?"

"Yeah, whatever is most convenient." _Thank you_. I grinned a real smile this time, "If I'm dead by the end, we know who's to blame."

"Ain't that the truth," Varric chuckled. "See you then, though. I got a message to send." Varric reached out and patted my arm, leaving me with a knowing tick of his brow. A swallow went down my throat, thankful that he had covered my back.

"Well, then. We stand ready to move on both of these concerns." Josephine sighed, her weight centered over her feet, fingers lax on her writing board.

Leliana chuckled, hands behind her back. "I know one thing; if Varric has brought who I _think_ he has, Cassandra is going to kill him."

I swallowed again; _that's what I was afraid of._

"Well." I croaked, clearing my throat and turning back to my troupe. "Is there anything else on the schedule we need to go over?" An alarm blared through my ears as all three of the heads shared a look amongst themselves. _Oh, fuck me. Now what?_ Leliana was the one to snare me with her gaze.

"One last thing, Herald." She stood forward and reached out to touch my elbow, turning me away as Josephine and Cullen took the lead and marched out through the front entrance. Nerves flared with a swift anxious twinge all along my back, my gaze flickered between Leliana and the other two who left us.

"Why do I feel like I'm about to be executed?" I twittered nervously.

"Nothing so dramatic." Leliana soothed, and nodded forward toward the entrance. There, Cassandra stood, proud and waiting. Now my nerves really were on fire and with my hands wrung together like knotted laces, I stepped toward her. Leliana abandoned my side, disappearing into a doorway just before the door.

"What's going on, Cassandra?" I hissed to her, hackles raised. The woman only offered me a small, crooked smile and turned to face out toward the courtyard. The lower level was slowly filling as new bodies came in through the gate, new tents hastily set up, stacks of crates dotted the walls.

"They arrive daily from every settlement in the region." Cassandra explained softly. "Skyhold is becoming a pilgrimage." Soldiers were quick to disperse newcomers from the gate, helping with the flow of traffic and directing the sick and wounded to the healing tents. Others still able-bodied were given supplies and sent off with new orders.

A few snagged a seat on crates and held their heads in their hands. My heart shuddered for them.

"If word has reached these people, it will have reached The Elder One." Cassandra took a handful of steps down from the hall's entrance, over the stone steps to a lower platform. Her eyes continued to scan the crowds as they came into Skyhold like a tide.

"We'll give them a home." I placated, unsure of what she was gunning for as a response.

She nodded, stopping at the lip of the platform. "We have the walls and numbers to put up a fight here, yes, but this threat is far beyond the war we anticipated."

"War likes to do that." I murmured, standing next to her, my hands folded behind my back to mirror her stance. A few of the new arrivals stared up at us, the sun now overhead and slowly making its trek behind the massive fort. I spotted the familiar glint of Krem's pauldrons as he hurried through the courtyard toward the gate. A frown touched my mouth, _where is he going?_

"It is a beast well known and ever unpredictable." Cassandra agreed, a short glance toward me. "But we now know what allowed you to stand against Corypheus, what drew him to you." I raised my hand, the light of the anchor, the Mark, glowed with a sputter and dimmed. My attention distracted from the lieutenant, it drew up to Cassandra's face, her gaze floating across my face.

A sigh drew from my lips. "This damn thing. I'm standing in his way."

"Perhaps in more ways than we've considered." Cassandra tilted her head, a speculative blink down at my hand. She shifted to face me slightly, a third of her instead of a profile, and she settled her shoulders, her hands at her sides.

"Your decisions let us heal the sky. Your determination brought us out of Haven." She stated. Embarrassment heated my neck and ears, turning them pink and I raised a hand to stop her, my mouth going slack, but she trudged on; stalwart. "You _are_ the creature's rival because of what _you_ did. And we know it. _All_ of us."

New footsteps drifted behind us. With a jerk, I caught sight of Leliana coming down toward us with a sword at her side, bright and menacing, a hilt the size of both my hands adorned its handle and glittered in the sunlight. _Oh, no, sonvabitch, don't put me on the spot like this!_

"Uh," I let out lamely.

Cassandra chuckled. "The Inquisition requires a leader: the one who has _already_ been leading it." A sharp ring of silence came through my ears. Nervously, I turned to glance below and found that the courtyard levels had been filled with merchants, pilgrims, and soldiers. Cullen and Josephine smiled up at me from within the crowd, the bodies slowly swaying to a stand-still as they turned their gazes up to us.

To me.

 _You bastards._

Tears welled up in my eyes. Leliana held the sword aloft in both her hands as she faced me, Cassandra at my left, as always. She nodded, her face stern and confident, the smallest hint of a smirk touched her bottom lip.

" _You_." She confirmed.

"Did everyone agree to this?" I murmured, emotions gripped at my throat. A hard swallow forced its way into my voice, the corners of my eyes wrinkling with unshed tears. Leliana and Cassandra shared a swift glance before the Spymaster stood tall and step forward.

"No one here has shown a greater sense of duty than _you_ , Jaime." Leliana spoke gently, soothing the frayed ends of my nerves. "And of all those involved, _you_ were the last of us who held that responsibility."

"Cass?" My gaze searched her face, a shiver of anticipation curling through my limbs. Her mouth hesitated, her eyes broken from their gaze over my face before she sighed and nodded, her hands fists at her sides, resisting an urge that I could see flash across her face.

"You have made me proud." Cassandra muttered, a tint of embarrassment coming through. "Though I had been reluctant to allow you the chance to lead, you never failed when you did. I trust you."

"Cass," I breathed, floored. The tears dribbled down my cheeks.

"There would be no Inquisition without you. How it will serve, how you will lead: that must now be _yours_ to decide." Cassandra reaffirmed, her hand nearly reaching out to take mine. Heat swelled against my lungs and the tears burned with that new heat as they slid down my face. With a stare, I turned to the sword held in Leliana's hands.

My own looked miniscule when I reached to take the handle. Both hands were needed to pull it up and hold it up into the air, my tear-stained face reflected in the grooves of the polished steel. A hard clench of my teeth tightened my throat to clear it as I stared.

 _There is no Inquisition without me?_ The heels of my feet turned me toward the crowd, my heart hammered and stuttered like a madman in my chest, my lungs rebelled and swallowed my inhale, refusing to let go. The sword was steady in the grip of both my hands and I faced the _true_ Inquisition below me.

Hundreds had died, senselessly and without cause. Corypheus had unarmed us with his ruthlessness and demanded sacrifices. _And yet_ , the people continued to return, continued to bolster our forces, drive us harder with their determination to see an end to the madness that had taken ahold of us. I could spy the hazy figures of the Chargers at the back, the merchants along the walls, the few mages who escaped with their staves held up, unafraid of the templars that stood beside them.

My own screams in the hidden, ice-bitten cavern echoed through my bones.

I inhaled, my back straightened, the tears continued to fall.

"Corypheus will _never_ let us live in peace, he made that perfectly clear!" I cried out over the courtyard, the echo of my voice ringing through the stone walls, my knuckles white as I held the sword before me. Cullen smirked from below with Josephine grinning giddly next to him. The spatter of my companions dotted the crowd.

"He intends to be a god, to rule over us all!" I continued, my voice stronger once the ball of bile had been forced back into the recesses of my bowels. A pair of horns near the gate caught my attention, even though I couldn't quite see his face.

A new, deeper heat surged through me. Emboldened, I grinned.

"Corypheus _will_ be stopped!" I exclaimed, brandishing the sword before me, grin bright. "And _we'll_ be the ones to do it!" Cheers burst through the courtyard, hands shooting into the air with fists and swords and staves.

"Have our people been told!" Cassandra commanded, stepping up next to me, her voice carrying over mine to the crowd below. A flash of gold caught the sunlight as rays of it scored along the level from the fort behind us.

"They have!" Josephine replied, exuberant. "And soon, the world!"

"Commander!" Cassandra barked. My arms were starting to shake. "Will they follow!" Cullen came to life next to Josephine, his shoulders going wide across his back, his head held high and he faced the horde behind him, with a back step onto a jutting rock, looking for higher ground.

"Inquisition!" He commanded, "Will you follow!" The crowd erupted before him, the soldiers howled behind the civilians, their hands raised into the air, shields exploded with sunlight as they were raised and drilled into the ground.

"Will you fight!" He challenged, his own fist raised as well. Another explosion of shouts, louder than the last as the Chargers at the rear near the gate roared up amongst the voices of the pilgrims and soldiers. My eyes spied the curious tilt of the pair of horns. _Amusement, or pride?_

"Will we triumph!" Cullen continued, enthused by the people around him. Their roaring cheers slammed together and rose like a heat over the platform, staves glowing bright, swords held high over their heads, civilians crying out as far as their voices would take them.

"Your leader! Your Herald! Your _Inquisitor_!" He hollered, the breath of his sword drew from its sheath and glinted in the fading sunlight, matching the stance of mine on the higher platform. He raised it as I desperately tried to keep my elbows from bending from the whirlwind of emotion.

Caught up in the moment, I forced my arms up and the sword over my eyeline.

My own scream of triumph was lost among the many others.

* * *

 **Note:** _This was an awkward chapter. Gameplay-wise, I understand why it's shoved right there after you reach Skyhold, but realistically... you shouldn't be having meetings in crumbling forts. And everyone's got to get their bearings first._

 _Eh well. We did what we could, lads. Thanks for coming back!_

 _Psst. Dorian comes in next chapter._


	36. ACT II: A Gilded Cage

**ACT II:** _A Gilded Cage_

* * *

 **Note:** _AHHHHHHH!_

* * *

It had taken most of the next day to clear out the main fort. The ceremony the day before had invigorated everyone. Before the day was over, the braziers were lit and the floor had been cleared of debris. Solas had immediately taken up in the center piece, the rotunda that spiraled upward with the staircase swirling around it up to the higher levels.

I had lost Bull sometime between the ceremony and the next morning, and couldn't find the bravery to ask any of the other Chargers were he and Krem had disappeared. My Hydra had left to complete their tasks and allowed the workers free reign of the area.

 _Where to hide?_ Not like I was any use when it came to actual construction work, though I wouldn't be opposed to helping with some of the architecture. Time to go sticking my nose into places it didn't belong, I suppose.

"Brilliant, isn't it?" The cultured voice rang through the rounding spiral of the tower. Solas had been nowhere for me to find, but the sound of tossed books and frantic shuffling had me curious enough to investigate. Up the stairs I went, careful of my footing as more books hit the floor on the next landing (didn't want to be pelted as I came up).

At the landing, just before me stood our not-quite-a-prisoner. The mage Dorian Pavus, if I remembered correctly. He was dressed in dark tan robes and belts, his attire reminiscent of the bloodied one he was found in when he first crashed into our gate. Where he had found a spare was anyone's guess, as I personally had not spotted a traveling case.

"What is?" I questioned, hoping to catch his attention; another book went sailing. It skidded along the stones and tipped over the edge down to the rotunda below. He spied me over his shoulder, but his hands continued to rummage through the books that dotted the shelves. Old remnants of previous occupants, perhaps, because I couldn't think that the Inquisition had _any_ time to save the books that were in Haven.

My chest pinged with pain. It wasn't necessarily the Library of Alexandria, but even so.

"One moment you're trying to restore order in a world gone mad, that should be enough for anyone to handle, yes?" He tossed the question at me, but drilled on without any reply from my locked up mouth. The next book was dropped at his feet."Then, out of nowhere, an Archdemon appears and _kicks_ you in the head!"

My brow pinched. I hadn't recalled him being close enough to see the dragon, but he may have been told. _What would he know what the Archdemon looked like? Do they keep records of the Blight somewhere?_ They must have, but that was a question to file away later.

"What! You thought this would be _easy_?" He scoffed, the layers of sarcasm and shrill impersonation of being offended had my mouth ticking at the corners. _I will not laugh. Not yet. Not even if he's inside my head with that_ exact _train of thought._

" _No_ ," he drawled, sarcasm dripping on the word, his hands took a stack of books and tossed them onto the chair behind him, " _I_ was just hoping you wouldn't crush our village like an anthill." A hand of mine came up to my mouth and smothered the grin that painted itself across my face.

He ploughed on, "Sorry about that! Archdemons like to crush, you know. Can't be helped." My left arm folded across my middle and held the elbow of my right arm in place, just to make sure my hand didn't slip away from my mouth as a vague chuckle bubbled up my throat. Finally, the mage glanced in my direction fully and cocked a hip, a graceful hand settled on it.

"I suppose a _proper_ introduction is called for, now that we're not _running_ for our lives." He cleared his throat gently and bowed with the elegance of a dew-heavy flower, coming up just as easily. "Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of the Tevinter Imperium."

I tipped my head, not trusting myself to bow with quite the same grace. "Jaime Wyatt, the current owner of this circus."

His lips twitched, amused. "To explain – I was at Redcliffe when the Venatori assumed command of your southern mages. I only wish I could have given more warning." My right hand had rested on my shoulder after our introductions, but I raised it to appease him. Apologizes for things he couldn't control were smoke to the wind.

"You did what you could, with what you had. No sense in borrowing trouble from yesterday or tomorrow." I said, crossing my arms down along the plane of my stomach. It was a challenge not to mirror his stance and cock a hip as well, it was almost too easy to allow myself to be casual in his presence. _Was that the point? He is trying to get me to play along?_

I was paranoid, I could admit that much.

"Clever phrase, I'll take that if you don't mind." He tipped his head, mustache twitching. "I apologize it's taken nearly three weeks to have this conversation, but, you've been busy."

"I have gotten shit-all finished." I replied, grinning. The soldiers and civilians had done most of the work. No one would allow me near a hammer or a plank of wood out of fear that I would die from it, regardless that my bruising had healed. The ribs were still tender, but the point of the matter was moot.

"As you've said, you've done what you could." He smirked, a graceful had flipped in my direction.

"Could I ask a potentially relationship-ending question?" I jutted the conversation in another direction, curiosity peaked. He raised a sculpted eyebrow and waited with a tilt of his chin. "Could you explain what a Magister is?"

He blinked. "What? You're _not_ assuming I'm one?"

" _Are_ you?" I returned his blink, confused. Josephine and Leliana had titled him as such, but when he introduced himself, he had made no such claim. From what one would hear tell, someone – a mage – from Tevinter would not hesitate to make it perfectly clear how far below them you stood.

I was hoping his sarcasm was a bit like mine, but prejudices could run deep.

"I know it's all the same to southerners, but… I suppose you wouldn't have that bias, would you?" He eyed me gently, the state of my dress far from noble or armed. I was, as always, nothing more than the orphaned schmuck stuck in this rutting mess. Passively, I grinned at him when his eyes came back to my face.

"To clarify, no, I'm not." He huffed, amused. "All members of the Magisterium – and thus all magisters – are mages, but not _all_ mages are part of the Magisterium."

"Ah, I see." I nodded, "Everyone here is a citizen of Thedas, but not _everyone_ is Tevinter?"

He laughed with a clap of his hands. "Snub my nose first, would you? Good analogy. Crude, but it works. It isn't to imply I'm just _any_ mage, of course, but let's not start with incorrect assumptions."

"Speaking of assumptions," my attention jumped again, "there was mention of the Venatori. Could you give me an idea of what we're looking at here?"

"Right to the gut of the matter, I see." He sighed deeply, but his mouth tugged a bit with a smile. "I see my looks aren't as distracting as they used to be." _Oh ho, is that what we're doing now?_ Maybe I had read the messages wrong, he – or rather, _I_ – didn't seem to be the right type. Perhaps I was wrong?

"They're distracting, all right," I appeased, laughing, "but you're just not _quite_ at the tier of Archdemon, I would have to say." And by god, I nearly died when his hand came up to curl at his mustache, his haughty huff playing into his role beautifully.

"I would never stoop to disfigurement, my dear." He chuckled and rested both his hands on his hips, pondering my question. "Moving on; the Venatori. Fools, really, so desperate to restore the Imperium's _glory days_ , they'd sacrifice our nation's soul."

 _Patriotism_ , I marked off mentally.

Anger tinted him, "They made an offer to your mage rebels to join forces, but I'd bet they didn't leave the outcome to chance." Long, genteel fingers gripped his hips, restraining himself from either pacing or going back to menace the bookshelf again.

"The result is the army you saw at Haven," he continued, his nose scrunched moodily, "this _Elder One_ has more magic than you can shake a stick at." _That idiom exist here?_ Distracted, but I focused on a glittering button thoughtfully.

"I mean, that much we knew when he managed to command a dragon to shit on us." So there was nothing new about that, and Varric's story had made it clear that without Hawke's father, the beast would have been left to roam the world as he saw fit. They had delayed the destruction, but not stopped it.

Dorian snorted, "Charming. Still, knowing that, I wasn't about to allow him to wipe you clean just yet."

"What you did for us at Haven was very brave." I honored that. A single soul without any sort of help or guidance or actual responsibility to us, and yet he drove through the snow and the mountains to save what he could. My heart squeezed between my ribs, aching at the idea of it.

"It was, wasn't it?" He smirked, unaware of my trauma, "Throwing my lot with the underdogs, that's me." He rolled his shoulders and crossed his arms, a few of his fingers coming to glide along the underside of his chin.

"Copper for your thoughts?" I nudged the conversation.

"Much more than coppers for them," he teased, "I… I always assumed the _Elder One_ behind the Venatori was a magister, but _this_ … is something else completely."

My head cocked, my hands behind my back. "What do you mean?"

"In Tevinter, they say the Chantry's tales of magisters starting the Blight are just that: _tales._ " He shook his head, a twinge of disgust pulled at his lips and wrinkled his eyes, shoulders stiff. "But here we are. One of those very magisters. A darkspawn."

"Hold a sec." I interrupted, captured by something else. "Are – did I hear that implication right? Does Tevinter not follow the Chantry?"

"Oh, sweet thing." He cooed at me gently, surprised. "You don't know much of the world, do you? I'm not terribly surprised – but yes, Tevinter has its own version of events that differ from your Chantry."

I raised a hand, my eyes shutting tight for a moment. "Nope, never mind. We'll… touch on that some other time. Venatori. Corypheus. Mages. That's what we need to deal with, first."

"Agreed." He laughed. "I will happily give you a history lesson at some other time. For now, we must deal with my idiot countrymen."

"And you're here because… you want to fight them?" I asked with a hint of confusion. "Not two beats ago you were concerned for the state of your country."

"My _country._ " Dorian stressed with a small lean forward. "The Imperium is a land of lies built upon secrets built upon falsehoods. I knew what I was taught couldn't be the whole truth," he shifted on his feet, hands on his hips bouncing with every other word. "But I _assumed_ there had to be a kernel of it. _Somewhere_."

"Darkspawn?" I followed along, concerned at his mounting ire.

" _Us_ ," Dorian added with a sharp hiss, "The darkspawn that _we_ turned into. We destroyed the world."

"Wait a tick, I just told you not to go borrowing trouble." I shifted on my feet, " _You_ didn't do anything. Those men did, thousands of years ago." The small space that we occupied growing smaller as his emotions ran on high. Not that I was a wealth of patience myself, I could only imagine this was what Cassandra had to deal with when I went on a hysterical rant.

Dorian exhaled, slowing down. " _True_ , except that one of them is up and walking around right now. And as I mentioned, I have idiot countrymen who would happily follow him down that path again."

I raised my hands, defeated by the line of logic.

"I have no intention of letting Corypheus win. Not without _someone_ from Tevinter standing against him." His arms crossed against his chest this time, his dark eyes sharpened their focus on my face and he stood at his height, proud. "If it's all the same to you, I'd like to stay and help the Inquisition."

 _Could he be a spy?_ Doubtful. If he was, his masters took a stupid bet on the Inquisition surviving the shitstorm that was Haven. Or they hadn't planned to kill us, or he was back up in case we did, somehow, manage to survive. Leliana had already made mentioned she hadn't been able to clear him yet, but with Skyhold in the ruckus that it was, whatever information he had already passed along was gone.

"You'll have to be on a tight leash for now." I acquiesced, my arms relaxing at my sides. "You'll keep to the main fort and here, anything you need will be purchased through Josephine or Leliana. Any jobs you'll do will be through me, yeah?"

He grinned, "For all that they painted you a dollop, you're not as mindless as they tell it. Accepted, Herald. I always did look good in rope."

A snort escaped me. I wound my index fingers in a circle, rewinding the conversation.

"Seriously, I don't look _that_ ditzy. Assholes." I muttered with a sigh. "Next, now that _that's_ out of the way. What _can_ you tell me about the Imperium or the Blight? Any clue how he got that dragon?"

Dorian snorted softly. "No idea, really. You know how it is, fingers pointed elsewhere. _Not us._ "

"So that's why the belief of the Chantry… or _your_ Chantry is different? There's no mention of something like Corypheus in your history?" I prodded. Something created this creature. Varric knew of Corypheus only has he was, and is, but not how he came to be. The monster sprung from a hole in the ground and then swallowed them up in it.

"They say darkspawn were always there; Magisters and the Blight aren't even related." Dorian tightened his mouth, the corners of his eyes wrinkled. "Is _that_ a surprise? No one wants to admit they shit the bed."

A bark of laughter escaped me. Articulated curse words always got me.

Dorian smirked slightly, but anger still heated his face. "It is left to be said, if Corypheus is one of the Magisters who entered the Black City and he's a darkspawn… what other explanation is there?"

"Could we consider that he's lying and just fixated on Tevinter?" I countered, the heels of both my hands coming up to rub into my eyeballs. "I've seen the Templars when they've been infected with red lyrium, and though I haven't seen possessed mages, Vivienne says they're not so dissimilar."

"Hmm." He considered my question, dark eyes dancing over our feet and back up to my face once my hands dropped to my hips. "Possibly. Anyone could fabricate _how_ they got into the Black City, but… there is too much detail, and he seemed perfectly capable of ripping the heavens open a second time."

My eyebrows ticked lazily, "It was a thought. No one seems to know _where_ he came from, and he claims Tevinter, but I could say I was the Queen of Thedas with this thing on my hand. Fear does stupid things."

He opened his mouth, then closed it and considered the statement. In some vein, his world and mine weren't so different in that they had both come tumbling down, the ideals of religion, logic, and reality all blown up into smoke. My head tilted, waiting for him. I couldn't imagine the whirlwind of thoughts.

"... you're really angry, huh?" I asked dumbly, surprised. Anyone would be angry at a hell-beast ripping the heavens apart and terrorizing their lands, but Dorian steamed with a personal sense of injustice, boiling with internal fury for something he, personally, hadn't been responsible in committing. My weight shifted back on my heel, my gaze over him renewed.

"The Imperium is my _home_ ," he answered vehemently, "Southerners like to think of the Imperium as nothing but slavers and cultists. Why not? That's all you see."

"Hey now." I protested lamely, Bull's _Vint_ comment and my own biting my ass.

" _Exactly_ ," he continued with a harsh frown, "it's not true. Some Tevinters are not only handsome and well-dressed, but rather put off by all that _rot_. So. I will _happily_ kill cultists, or anyone who thinks a darkspawn god is the way of the future."

I studied him, my voice quiet. "... No one is going to thank you for this, you know that, right?" Because he was Tevinter, because he was a mage, because he was flippant, flamboyant, feckless, egotistical, and any number of other first-impressions someone could label him with and judge him. He was all the things I had worried about for the rebel mages. People looked sideways at Vivienne because of her beauty and confidence, and used her magic as an excuse to be rude.

Dorian blinked at me, his demeanor softening. "No one will thank you, either. You know that."

"I do." I answered, just as quiet, strange sense of warmth going through me; _you get it_. "But this isn't about being thanked. I've made a home here. I can't let someone take that without a fight."

"Well." Dorian smiled, a true one. "In that much, we are agreed. At the very least, you'll get it from me; _thank you_."

-0-

Dorian, I had come to find, was a historian. Intensely and passionately in love with the history of his country and how it had come to be, powerhouse or no. I had spent the better part of the hour with him, collecting the books he had tossed around. Majority of them were copies, repeats in different editions, all useless by Dorian's standards.

"If you could ask your ambassador for much more _suitable_ material, that would be grand." Dorian took the books I handed him and stacked them onto the table nearby, the discard pile. There was a mountain of them, and yes, all of them were going to be tossed.

"What would you classify as suitable material?" I questioned, watching as he took the few rarer and older copies to replace on the shelf. A few of them were switched around and I assumed he was placing them in alphabetical order.

"Considering what we will be dealing with, anything on Tevinter." He paused, his mustache twitching, his fingers gentle on the binding of a book. "... I'll send a note down. We'll need a tradesman from Tevinter, my apologies, but I couldn't trust the editions in the south."

"That, I can understand." I laughed. "Back home, we had a book that was copied and edited thousands of times, and everyone argues on which one is the _right_ one."

"Isn't that just the thing, though?" Dorian smirked at me, taking another small stack from my arms to set on the shelf. "I am a firm believer in facts and the followings of experimentation and science." It was my turn to hesitate, because now we touched on events that were still in the fog. Whatever had happened at Redcliffe that consequently brought the mages on our doorstep needed to be a cleared flag in our timeline.

"Ser Pavus —" I started.

"Oh, no, no, _no_ ," Dorian tutted, turning to me and promptly tapping the top of my head with a book, stunning me. "Let's break that habit right this moment. You may call be Dorian, my dove, and not much else."

"Ah," I fumbled, tongue thick. "Ooh… 'kay."

He laughed. "Aren't you just darling? Southern charm, I don't get to see it too often." There was a beat of silence as he continued to place away his books. A flush had come to my face, heating up my cheeks and quietly, I tried to gather my scattered thoughts.

"Darling," Dorian quipped softly, "your question?"

"Ah, right." My throat cleared, the books shifting in my arms. "Could you, if it's not too upsetting, give me a rundown of what happened in Redcliffe? You were there, you said?"

"Unfortunately," he huffed. The stack was cleared from my arms and he took a final look at them, critiquing his placement of them all. "I had followed my former mentor, Gereon Alexius, to Redcliffe. I was attempting to stop him and his foolishness, offering the mages refuge." He turned away from his books and offered me the chair up against the wall, but with a shake of my head, he took the seat instead.

"What was he trying to do?" I took a few steps over to lean up against the bookshelf, my hands laced together in front of me, resting at the dip of my thighs. "It's one hell of a leap to go from needing protection to being the mass of an army."

"They're not just your southern mages." Dorian murmured darkly. "The Elder One had collected a few followers from the fringes of Tevinter, the dying and desperate that couldn't be a part of the Magisterium." He raised his hands and rubbed them together before they stayed steepled along his mouth.

"That would explain the numbers, yeah." I replied quietly. My hips shifted against the books.

"Alexius had found himself in the service of The Elder One nearly a year or so before, by my reckoning." Dorian tapped at his chin with his laced hands. "According to him, the God in question had the power to bring his son's health back in order." My head tilted in surprise, brow raised silently.

"You see, a while back as they were traveling back to their home in Tevinter for the winter, they were set upon by hurlocks. They drove them back, but at the lost of Livia's life and Felix's health. He became afflicted with the Blight through the darkspawn blood." Dorian closed his eyes, pained. His hands came apart and one rubbed at his chin, a sigh escaping his lips.

A lot of information had come up through that simple statement. _Hurlocks_ , for one, was an unknown word to me, but context given it was a subcategory of darkspawn. At the very least, this gave me some idea that there were different breeds and not just infectious zombies that walked the earth. Notably, being a young child caught in the throes of a Blight, I wouldn't know the backend of a hurlock from anything else, so my ignorance was plausible.

 _Wife and son_ , another notable piece of information to Leliana.

"So, Corypheus snatched him up because he was a mage and sorrow makes us do stupid things?" I questioned softly.

"Not quite." Dorian shook his index finger. "Alexius and his wife Livia were top of their masteries. Livia was studying the Veil and the effects of our experiments on it. Alexius and I were experts at thaumaturgy — such has creating new means of magic and access to it, and we were attempting to — reshape the boundaries of magic."

I pondered for a moment. "Because… magic comes from the Fade, and if you're… so, wait, you're rewriting the rules before breaking them?" Because if Livia had been there for the studies of the Veil, like Solas, then the assumption was they were trying to break through it, much like the Mark on my hand.

 _Ooooh._ The light bulb flickered over my head. _That's why it had to be him, his son was just an opportunity to snatch it up._

Dorian clapped his hands, "Look at you! Not even a mage, and you're startling fast. Yes, my dove, we were. We speculated that if there was a way to utilize the Fade without the direct need of magic, then it would be little else to be able to make it accessible to everyone."

"Wait, what?" I backpedalled. "I thought… well. Prejudice, I guess. Oops."

"You thought the mages across the border just wanted to hoard it all for ourselves, hm?" Dorian smirked, unexpectedly pleased. He shrugged his shoulders, "You're not entirely wrong, but… Alexius and I were driven by our need to better our country. Long before I met him, he was already a well-known figure that pushed for education and funding our schools rather than that blasted war with the Qunari."

"... Did he end up with Corypheus because of the promise of resurrecting old Tevinter?" I asked, my fingers tightening in my lap. The use of his son's health would have been a clever ploy, one that Corypheus could no doubt twist if he had spells or cures from years old that could help.

"Heavens, no." Dorian gently spat. "There's nothing in our past worth dragging back up. We may not be the perfection the nobility demand, but we're far better than we were hundreds of years ago."

"Got'cha." I murmured. "So then, Corypheus came up and told him he could fix Felix?"

Dorian stewed. " _Yes_ , and I had warned Alexius that no such thing existed. Once you're tainted, that's it, nothing saves you — no cure, no spell, no magic. Only the Wardens know how to hold off the taint, but that usually comes with the promise of becoming one of them."

I blinked, surprised. "Yeah. Not something a noble family wants to do, lose a son." _Would Blackwall know? Could we cure Felix and stop some of those mages?_ Something to ask my Warden when I had the chance.

"Ha," Dorian laughed darkly, a sour snarl to his lips. "One _would_ think that, no? In any case, he and I parted ways, until I heard about the madness he was conjuring in Redcliffe. Apparently, the way to save Felix was to go back in _time._ "

There was a deep pause. And then from my mouth; "You're shitting me."

"I _dearly_ wish I was, my dove." Dorian tapped the heel of his palm on the armrest. "Alexius had managed to create a pendant that, with enough energy, could rip a hole in the Veil and throw you back in time."

"Where the fuck would you go?" I breathed, disbelieving. "How — the fuck do you control _where_ you go?"

"You couldn't." Dorian explained, angered. "And that's the _point_ I was trying to explain to him, that going back in time wouldn't guarantee that Felix would survive; _nor_ would it guarantee that you would even come to the _right_ place in time to do so."

"There's too many variables." I muttered, my hands coming up to my mouth in shock. My brow dipped over my eyes as my gaze shifted to the floor. "The paradoxes would be astronomical. The power to get there, the power to _stop_ , and how the fuck would you judge _where_ you were…" I glanced up when I realized it had gone silence in my mutterings, Dorian watched me with a curious eye and tilted his head.

"Sorry," I waved a hand, "distracted. Sounds interesting, but extremely dangerous."

"Quite." He took a longer moment to spy over me. A curious glance over my face later, "Such as it is, it failed. The Elder One was not pleased."

A chilled whisper went up my back, "... is he dead? Alexius?"

"No." Dorian whispered, grieved. "But Felix is."

"Oh no," my inhale caught my words. "Corypheus killed him?"

"Naturally." Dorian spread his hands, a nasty, angered sneer on his mouth. "The whole promise hinged on Alexius creating such a device, so: no pendant, no Felix. Incinerated, so Alexius would have nothing to bury." And though Felix had been Alexius' son, there was no hiding the tremor in Dorian's words despite his face; he was hurting too. A tiny piece of my heart broke for him, and with a heavy sigh, I raised my hands to my face and rubbed my cheeks.

"... sorry doesn't cut it, but I am." I murmured to the mage. "I knew the mages were in Redcliffe, Grand Enchanter Fiona had invited us there after the rally in Val Royeaux. I didn't… think they'd get so desperate so quick."

"My darling dove." Dorian waited until I looked up at him, his form leaned to the left in the chair. "Do not accept blame that is not yours to take. This — chaos was not your creation. Morbidly, at least now Felix will not see how far his father has fallen."

"What happened to him?" I questioned thickly. "I don't imagine Corypheus is the type to let failure stand, even if he killed the son."

"And you'd be right to think so." Dorian clicked his teeth. "Alexius is being put to work, transforming the mages into those atrocities. He forces them to drink red lyrium and sleep draught. Once asleep in the Fade, the demons come."

"Fucking hell," I spat vehemently, my hands right back up into my face and the heels of my palms pressed into my sockets. "That explains so much and I hate it."

"As do I." Dorian bit out. "Because from what I could gather, it's _only_ the Southern mages that are being transformed. The _Venatori_ remain as they are."

"Oh fuck that shit." I snapped, my hands slapped against my sides, smoky anger ghosting up my insides. "No fucking wonder — hell yes, my friend, you get your request. Any Venatori missions come up, you're on."

A beautiful, toothy smile graced his lips. " _Wonderful._ "


	37. ACT II: Accountability

**Act II:** _Accountability_

* * *

 **Note:** _Hehehehe. Don't be upset._

* * *

I had left Dorian to his own devices in his little sanctuary of a half of a library. Little known fact, Dorian was an absolute bookworm. I wasn't much of a reader myself, my preferences leaning more toward art and crafts, but I could appreciate someone else's love of books. Briefly, I wondered if he and Solas would get along. Granted, the elf hardly, _truly_ became friends with anyone. I balanced on the edge of the knife between possible friend and complete annoyance with him at the best of times.

Wandering back down the stairway to the rotunda, I could see a few of Solas' affects taking up the low shadows of the room, his multiple staves taking up another, glinting in the low torch light. As I walked out, I could spy what looked like clay bowls and pots, lidded and carefully wrapped with wool. Resisting the urge to snoop through my friend's things (wouldn't want to be an _annoyance_ ), I headed into the main hall when a shadow came up along my left.

Varric grinned at me, the backlight of the sun framing him in an angelic light. A snort escaped me and I fought down a laugh, waiting for the dwarf to get within earshot. He raised an eyebrow at me, amusement on his face, but the tone of his voice was far from humor.

"My guest is here." He whispered, words tight. "Up in the battlements. If we could have but a moment of your time?" He bowed his head with a mock flap of his hand. _Where did this come from? He's not normally so darkly sarcastic. Is he angry?_ I hadn't seen Varric use quite as much sarcasm on me. With a nod, I followed my dwarven friend from the main fort and through the scenery up to the battlements. The place was quiet, the main hustle of the fort being in the courtyards and gates below.

The wind whipped a little harder up at the top of the tower, the sunlight keeping our shadows close so as to avoid any suspicion. I tightened my coat around my body, my hair a wild mess around my ears and face, the chill biting my lips. Leliana's words floated back to me between the whispers of wind; I would have to take a great amount of care to make sure Cassandra didn't find out about this meeting while Varric was around. Lying to a _Seeker_ was just out of the question.

"Good afternoon." The greeting came to me gently, the voice rumbling with deep exhaustion, honeyed with a warmth that came from sleep rather than charm, despite it being a little after midday. A swallow flashed down my throat, my gaze glued to the man in front of me; his visage was devastating, and not in the way many in my culture would have considered classically handsome.

"My name is Gaige Hawke, but I suspect you already know that." The grin was just as gentle. He slouched to one side, a hip cocked with his weight pressed against it, arms crossed at his broad chest. The tan skin had taken on a touch of burnt ends, darkened by dirt or sun over the last few years. The armor was bloodied, dried and old, scarred not just on the edges from use, but across his chest and a deep groove over his right thigh.

"I'm… Jaime Welton, Ser Hawke." My body stuttered as he smirked. _Do we shake hands, do we bow? I know he was part of a noble family, but the story didn't give much else to work on._ Hawke saved me; he reached out with an armored hand, clawed almost like a lizard's foot, for a shake. I took what I was offered, an embarrassed heat brushing up my cheeks.

"Please," he shook his head, "Hawke works just fine. It's good to finally meet you, Varric talks about you a lot." It was clearer now, as my gaze came up to his face. It wasn't a smirk that I spied on his mouth, but the upward tilt in place by a scar that reached his right eye. Part of it was hidden by the black scruff of beard coming in, and his copper-tinted green eyes masked a lot of flaws from his face with their intensity.

 _He_ sounds _tired, but I've got no doubt he's on full alert. Yikes._

"All good things, I would hope." It was hard to relax in his presence. Was that my own anxiety or the sheer presence of the man himself? Varric wove tales taller than the trees when it came to his best friend whenever the opportunity rose, but there was a slim chance that any of those were actually exaggerated once someone stood next to Hawke.

"Mostly." Varric tweeted cheerfully from behind me. A roll of my eyes earned me a chuckle from Hawke and the man took the opportunity to lead me toward the outer edge of the battlement and gestured that I take a seat against the parapet wall. Weird images of being tossed over the wall flirted with my mind and I was just as quick to shove them out. No need to start making enemies with weird jokes or thoughts like that.

"How does one start this conversation, I wonder?" He turned toward me and I vehemently kept my eyes to the ground in front of me. There was an uncertainty that rolled through my stomach, nausea echoed up through my ribs and I could not fathom what was causing the turmoil. _Magic?_ From the stories, from Varric, nothing about Hawke painted him a mage, only his sister Bethany managed to be born with it.

Until the light of my left palm flickered between my fingers.

"It's a mess." I said in lieu of my surprise. _Of fucking course. He's new, he's not in the normal sphere of influence. I'm not used to him and his emotions._ Fucking weird, batman, but I wasn't going to drop that bomb on an outsider, regardless if Varric trusted him or not.

"I'll agree with you there. I would have thought all of this would have ended with us, down in the Vimmark Mountains." He kicked his legs out and hooked his ankles together, his arms crossed again over his chest as he leaned back against the stone, his eyes turned up to the sky. The coiled muscles within my shoulders gently uncurled as his attention shifted from me.

"He's a tough sonovabitch, I'll give him that." I answered, smacking my right open palm against my left fist, trying to hide the light that glinted from within. The tails of my coat danced around my thighs. "Update, he's got a dragon now."

Hawke actually laughed. "Well, why wouldn't he? Every villain needs one." A brief pop of a smile touched my lips and I shrugged; didn't want to ruin the mood by mentioning said dragon had been pretty close to swallowing the upper half of my body in one bite.

"So. Dragon aside, we know he's got magic." I ticked up my thumb from my right hand, starting the count and following with the other fingers. "We know he's Tevinter, he's got the mages, and we know he's shit-balls crazy." Hawke ended up laughing harder with a clapped hand against his chest, perhaps at the fact that I had given my assessment with as straight of a face as I could.

"I see why Varric likes you," his eyes gleamed at me, highly amused, "very… ah, to the point."

"Told you she was a charmer." Varric grinned from the mouth of the stairway, waiting to deter any unwanted attention or visitors. Another harmless shrug from me and we were back to being somber, with Hawke reconsidering me out of the corner of his gaze.

"So." I aligned us back to the task at hand. "What can you tell me about our blighted asshole?"

"Blighted?" Hawke pinned me with a sharp side glance. He turned to Varric. "Is he?"

"I don't know." Varric replied, his gaze shifting to me for a moment. "I wasn't there. She's the only one that saw him." I frowned, _throw me under the bus, will you?_ Though he wasn't wrong, even with the companions I _had_ taken, no one had been with me when he trampled his way in and nearly stole my arm.

"He is, or at least I _think_ he is." I answered, rolling up the sleeve of my coat on my left arm. The Mark glittered brightly against my skin, the scar stretched across my palm from Corypheus' attempts to rip the Anchor from my body. The lacerations from his claws marred my arm, jagged and knotted slices over the length of it, like a badly drawn tattoo-sleeve. Magic had healed most of it. Hawke peered over at my arm, a clawed hand reached out and hesitated just under my wrist.

I set my limb in his open palm for inspection. "He's got some big claws, too, but I don't think they're armor. He's got the red lyrium coming out of him like a old woman's pin-cushion."

"I remember." Hawke sighed, turning my arm over, but his eyes were clearly on my palm. "He had managed to catch Anders across the back with them once or twice. The blight wasn't — not like the red lyrium. He was just grotesque."

"You're telling me, he looks like a barnacle come to life." I took my arm back once Hawke released it, rolling down the sleeve against the chill of the wind. "But the blight does look new, because it's cracking some of his — what the fuck you call 'em?" I gestured to my chest, the massive plates that had shield the monster's body.

"I know what you mean. Yes, those weren't there before. Must've happened sometime between the last two or so years." Hawke speculated, tapping his chin with the curl of his index finger. "That means to tell me he must have been underground for sometime."

I blinked, spying Varric and snapping my fingers at him. "The — hey, that shit at the Temple? You said — it's the same shit, I bet. And at Therinfal, there was crates of it, they were distilling it to be drinking lyrium that they were poisoned with, now that I remember."

"Where in the Temple was the red lyrium appearing?" Hawke kept his gaze on me, expression dark.

"Not in it. The Temple had been blasted out, down to the ground level, so it was coming up — or exposed by the blast. You don't think he was hiding _there_ the whole time, do you?" I asked, my brow shot up in alarm. Two years was a long time to go, but it didn't correlate with what Dorian had told me before. _Agents, maybe? Could he have made a base in the Temple and then opportunity arose when the Divine showed up?_

"Doubtful, that creature didn't seem the type to rest on his laurels." Hawke leaned back against the parapet wall, thoughtful. "Though that would explain how he was able to control the darkspawn."

"Fuck." I swore quietly. "You're serious?"

"Unfortunately. When we were at Vimmark, my group and I managed to kill him — however permanent _that_ was, with some help with from the Grey Wardens." Hawke smiled slightly at my curse.

"Question; Anders? In Varric's story, he was affected by the Calling — did that happen to the other Wardens?" I asked, concern started to bloom at the bottom of my gut. _Could Blackwall be in danger? Wardens are all connected through something that let's them fight the darkspawn and Corypheus can control that, but what?_

Hawke nodded. "They were. He somehow used his connection to the darkspawn to influence them, tricks them into thinking they're dying. That's what the Calling is, from my understanding. The last moments before they turn into darkspawn themselves."

"How do you know that?" My brow pinched over my nose, my arms crossed across my pelvis.

"Bethany." Hawke sighed the name. "Grey Wardens are secretive, she can't tell me much, but she tells me enough." Electricity shot through my body with a violent bolt and my back straightened with a near-audible snap; _his sister's a Warden!_

"Do you know where they went?" I veered off topic like a drunkard, grasping for the thread of information. "Blackwall hasn't got the foggiest clue, but he's been in the Hinterlands for a while now. Is Bethany still with them?" Hawke hesitated, his eyes narrowed on my face. The muscles of my face suppressed a wince, _stupid, he's going to think you're going to use her._

"She's good for it, Hawke." Varric came to my rescue, quiet from the stairs. "Jaime only wants information, she doesn't use people like that." Visibly, Hawke relaxed, his scarred face softening without a single look to his friend for second reassurances.

"No. The minute I found out that Corypheus could do such a thing, I sent word to Aveline and had her take Bethany and her closest Wardens out of Ferelden," he answered quietly. "When the Breach appeared, I imagine she was well away from the chaos."

"Would the Wardens have no interest in the Divine's Conclave?" I pressed for more information. Despite not having concrete information as to where she and any other Wardens had gone to, the fact that she was _alive_ was a cookie crumble more than I had before to offer Leliana.

"According to Bethany, no." Hawke shook his head, "But Stroud says differently, given that the Wardens disappeared around the same time as the Breach appearing." Bits and pieces of the puzzle clattered together in my head, rattling and cracking like building blocks that I couldn't keep up in any shape. _I'm missing something, there's a piece somewhere in the ether that I don't have yet. Damnit._

"Wardens disappear with the Breach. Mage circle breaks. Templars leave. Corypheus shows up." My mutterings were rushed under my breath, trying to sort through the ricocheting thoughts. "Templars hostage at Therinfal, mages enslaved at Redcliffe. Wardens gone. I'm still missing the Wardens, but where the fuck did they go?"

Hawke tilted his head, watching me. "Good to know you and I have the same priority. If the Wardens disappeared, he may have taken control of them again, or all those within reach."

"I can't work on maybes." I replied with a shake of my head, my gaze brought up from the ground. "I need proof. I need something, I can't go on a wild goose chase."

"I've got a friend in the Wardens who's still in the area." Hawke pursed his lips, his gaze flickering off my right shoulder for a moment. "He was investigating something unrelated for me. Stroud. Last we spoke, he was worried about corruption in the Warden ranks. Since then; nothing."

"Corypheus would certainly qualify as corruption in the ranks." Varric interjected, taking a few steps toward us. "Did your friend disappear with them?"

"No. He told me he'd be hiding in an old smuggler's cave near Crestwood." Hawke placed his hands on his hips. "He's been on the run since before the Conclave, hiding from his kin."

"If he's hiding, what did you have him investigating?" I asked, confused. All of that sounded counterproductive. The wind picked up a bit around us, the sun had crawled through the sky from midday to the first sigh of evening, the fort rapidly cooling around us.

"When you mentioned the red lyrium earlier, I asked about it because the Templars in Kirkwall were using a strange form of lyrium as well. It was red." Hawke explained, his voice pitched low against the wind. The words carried to me easily as they floated between us. Another chill stole up my back and I glanced at Varric. The dwarf nodded, his mouth set into a grim line of guilt.

"The Templars at Therinfal, they looked like bloated masses, red spears of the lyrium coming up from their chests and it seemed to swallow them whole." I murmured, watching his face. His temples twitched and a fanged tooth flashed under his scruffed lips in a silent snarl.

"One in the same. They transformed right before my eyes as we fought." Hawke spat darkly. "I thought it would end at Kirkwall. It seems my mistakes never leave me."

"Can you get me to your friend?" I derailed him, keeping him from wallowing in his sorrow. I could empathize with him, truly, but we were on the cusp of something that could salvage the situation we had with Corypheus. "I'll take any lead I can get at the moment."

"Good." Hawke nodded. "I'll do whatever I can to help."

-0-

I left Varric and Hawke to their conversation not long after we set up the details to find Stroud. A bird or more later, Hawke would have confirmation that Stroud was back in Crestwood before leading us out there. I would need to update my War Council about the situation on the Wardens, Leliana specifically. My ribs and lungs vibrated with nerves, stealing my breath as I made my way down from the battlements, quiet and in deep contemplation.

So deep, it seemed, that I didn't spy a certain Qunari come up behind me, his shadow overtaking mine. I hadn't noticed his hand come to my shoulder, either, but at least I was alert enough to come around in a spin to elbow his gut when his hand finally dropped against my neck. It barely phased him as he bent with my blow, but his wheezing laugh sent a shot of heat through my stomach and to my knees.

"You asshole!" I hissed, smacking his shoulder with the back of my hand for good measure. "Why are you sneaking up on me!"

"Sneaking!" Bull wheezed, another hiccuping laugh catching his words. "For once, honest, I _wasn't_ — I came right up behind you like a normal person." He straightened, but kept a hand over the small patch of muscle I had slammed with my elbow.

"There's nothing normal about coming up behind someone." I groused, flushed red to my ears. "You could have called out or something, shit."

"I _did_ ," Bull stressed, greatly and terribly amused at my expense. "I even used your name and you just kept on walkin'. Something big on your mind, boss?" And just as quick as the heat of embarrassment flashed through me, so did the cold crack of rain to douse it. _Ben Hassrath._ Spy. How much could I tell the Qunari about the Wardens and Corypheus? I had no doubt in my mind about his people already knowing about the demon-mage, but what else would he tell them?

 _I need to talk to Leliana._

"Something big, yeah." I answered, going for the half-truth and omitting the rest. "Leliana is going to have to help me sort it. What — time is it? What are you doing out here?" With a glance around, the dusky evening blanketed us from above, the frost swirling around our ankles as the temperature continued to fall, the distant cheers and singing from the tavern not far off.

"Looking for you." He rumbled, his head tilted to one side, smirk faint. "Haven't seen you in two or three weeks and this is how I'm greeted? That's unfair, I heard Krem got a hug."

" _Fuck_ you," I said intelligently, my gut churning violently, my ears about to melt off. "I saw that you got back a few days ago, you didn't say anything then."

His brow went up over his eye-patch. "Well, what with the ceremony and the rebuilding, I figured you'd be busy and would come to see me when you weren't." I hated this, I felt a rope around my neck tugging me in and there was a desperation to keep myself from tumbling forward into his flirting. My heart thundered in my ears at the implications. _He does_ not _mean it that way, so get right the fuck off that train of thought, thirsty-ass._

"Poof," I tried weakly, flapping my arms once. "I'm here to see you. See? Magic." It earned me a snorting, hardline laugh. I wasn't sure if it was better or worse, I was trying to distract him and all I ended up doing was distracting myself. My eyes closed for a moment, pressed tightly together; _I'm so far in this isn't even funny anymore._

"I think what you need is a drink, boss." Bull clapped a hand on my shoulder and shook me slightly. My body swayed under his grip and a heavy sigh slipped from my lips.

"I dunno, maybe. Did you already get set up in the tavern, then?" I asked, but a mischievous smirk flashed across his lips for the barest second. He released my shoulder only enough to turn me around with his fingers and push me forward.

"Not quite. I got something to show you that I think is going to help." Bull's hand ran down the length of my back to rest on the dip just before my hips. A line of fire had followed the edge of his hand all the way down and it took whatever shreds of willpower I had left by the end of it not to shiver. _Motherfucker either doesn't know what he's doing to me or he does and I'm gonna kill him in his sleep._

His hand left my back as he stepped around to lead, "We should have something in your size."

" _What_ is that supposed to mean?" I shot him a hard glance. He only grinned and led us toward the dungeons of the fort. A frown touched my mouth; the Chargers had taken up in the dungeons. They weren't a large company, maybe fifty men or so altogether, and the cells were numerous enough to house all of them. Unsurprisingly, when I entered the dungeons behind Bull, the Chargers greeted him with friendly calls.

When I was spotted behind him, the crowd erupted into cat-calls.

"Shut the hell up, you tits!" I snapped at them over the teasing, a grin slapped to my face. _These fuckers_. Laughter broke out around us and the faintest thought whispered through the back of my mind; _what do they see that I don't? Surely they aren't taking the flirting seriously, right?_ I ignored the thought and followed Bull as he came around to the first nearest cell, the one I assumed he had taken for himself.

"Uh, Bull." I teased, laughing. "You do realize people are gonna see, right?"

"What, not into voyeurism?" He tossed back, leaning over at the chest by the foot of his bedding. My eyebrow rose in surprise, _he sleeps on the floor here, too?_ It must've been the horns. Sleeping on any kind of 'conventional' bed would be a nightmare trying to turn or twist. _Might just lay on his stomach when he sleeps._

And we were going to walk away from that thought at lightning speed. Yup.

"Here we are." Bull held up a very battered, weathered piece of clothing and welded armor. He looked over at me expectantly. Suspiciously, the group of mercenaries behind me had gone unnaturally quiet. Not quite silent, surely trying to play the part of polite eavesdroppers, but they weren't fooling me.

"What?" Fear flashed through me. "Are you expecting me to _wear_ that?"

"Yes." He returned, placing it into my numb, unexpecting hands. "Humor me."

"I sure as hell know you're not expecting me to change _here_!" I hissed, snatching the clothes from his grip, clutching them to my chest. "What the hell do I gotta wear this for?"

"There isn't really anywhere else to change. And it's not like I'm asking you to strip naked." Bull rumbled with humor, pleased with himself. He stepped around me and stood at the entrance of the cell, facing the outside of the cell. He was broad enough to block most of it, leaving me with enough privacy to change.

"... you're such a sonovabitch." I grumbled, wondering how I got roped into this mess. His chuckle floated over his shoulder and I turned away from him to hastily worm my way into the foreign clothing. The pants were just a inch too short, the tunic I had to tie to keep at my hips because tucking it in wasn't an option, and the chestplate winded me when I dropped it over my head.

"There," I griped, "now I really do look like an idiot."

"Nah, c'mon, boss." Bull turned to me, giving me a once over with his eye, "You look just fine."

"Can you please tell me what we're doing?" I asked. Bull shook his head and crooked his index finger at me to follow once more. My lips pouted and in his shadow I ghosted away from the cell, flipping off a rude gesture to the few laughing Chargers as I tripped in my boot laces. Outside, the sky had darkened from the blush of sunset to night, the moon peeking behind the main tower of the fort.

"You'll see." He answered once I was through the door he held open for me. "It'll be worth your time, I promise." Curiosity piqued, I remained silent and faithfully followed at his side, minding my steps to keep behind him, unsure of whatever attention would spy me in my weird garb.

"We've got a new batch of recruits." He began to explain as we walked the length of the courtyard to come down the stairs toward the stables. "Red had sent word that there were a collection of them on the outskirts of Orlais that needed an escort. I caught them on my way back."

Surprised, I turned to look up at him, "Recruits? From where?"

"All over." Bull shrugged. We passed the stables quietly to keep the horses from spooking. There was a darkened passage, a tunnel that cut through one part of the belly of the fort, leading out into the 'backyard' as it was designated by the friendlies. It was the expanse of land more than a league or so in length that housed our civilians and excess of low-priority people. New soldiers, recruits, and pilgrims set up tents from one end to the next.

There was a designated mess area near the center of the little makeshift village. Soldiers and civilians wandered around from end to end, some with supplies, others just tired, and some moving on to their next shift. Dots of people sat on crates and barrels, huddled together for warmth and comfort, their conversations low buzzes as we passed. Not a single one of them watched me as we walked past, but all their eyes would glance at Bull. He brought us up to a pair that sat together over a small table, his body shifting to a relaxed posture.

"Evening." He greeted, taking a seat. I bounced around him quickly to sit on his left side on a barrel. "Iron Bull, we're the merc band that just joined up." I knew a cover story when I heard one, so quietly I took up his left side and waited, glancing between him and the recruits.

"Tanner. I'm from Jader." The youngest answered, freckle-faced and pale, with new armor. "Well, _near_ Jader."

"Mira." The other answered, the voice low and rough. Her face was scarred all along the right side, one eye dropping from the pull of skin. "I was a guard-captain for Lady Pendell. Signed on after shit blew up at the Conclave." Surprised, I glanced at her. Her voice was articulate, measured, with an accent that the young man didn't have. _Separate worlds, then._

"Who's your friend?" Tanner popped in, his gaze drifted to me. I tucked my chin in, mouth small. _Bull, I'm not sure what part you're expecting me to play here!_ The 'Herald' didn't have a uniform, and the sleeves of the tunic I wore were long enough that the Mark was hidden away, so I was a nobody for the moment.

The Qunari shot me a look, then grinned, "This is Grim. She doesn't talk much."

 _Ah. Noted._

I grunted, screwing my mouth into a sideways frown.

The flash of a pleased grin on Bull's face was gone in a second after I noticed it, "So! You ready to kill some demons or Venatori… or whatever that Corypheus asshole is?" Mira leaned forward on her table's side, her hardened gaze inspecting Bull with a critical eye before she shook her head.

"This isn't about killing." She explained firmly. "We're helping the Inquisitor save the world and build the next Empire." The second grunt that escaped me was more surprise than play-acting. That had been a _resolute_ statement, no questions asked, she knew exactly what she was meant to do. I turned to Bull, eyes wide.

"Well, long as I get paid, I'm happy." He ignored my look, picking up the conversation. "That's why I signed up." Omitting truths and giving half of an answer that sounded like a full one. Surely they would find out who he was later, the longer they stayed, but for now it would work to play as just a hireling.

 _What are we looking for, Ben-Hassrath?_

Tanner nodded his head this time, "I just couldn't spend my whole life on a farm. Needed to live a little, you know?" With that, my ribs cracked and my heart shuddered. _Good to know being a killer didn't take my heart. I kinda wish it did, though._ He was young, and now I wondered _how_ young. He didn't sport as many scars on his face as Mira did and his experience was irritated farm animals, not demons.

I wanted to ask so many questions; _why show up here? Why alone? Why did you leave home? Why!_ Bull must have seen the distress building up in my gaze.

"What about you, Mira?" Bull deflected, shifting my attention to the veteran. "Why'd you join up? I thought you were serving some noble?" The older woman considered the question, not as quickfire as her counterpart across the table. She folded her hands together, her heavy gaze shifting between Bull and myself. A mental note flared at the back of my mind; _I need to tell Leliana about her. She's cautious. Assessing. Scary._

"I saw what happened at Haven." Her lips turned white as they pressed tight for a moment. "The Inquisitor staring down that _monster_ and his archdemon…" Her head turned toward me, but I tipped my chin down to avoid her gaze. _Does she recognize me, then? Are the clothes enough?_ I knew what she would see, and it would give our whole cover away. My teeth clenched tight and my jaw cracked. I had never stopped to think about what the _soldiers_ saw when Haven fell.

Bull's heat at my side branded me as he shifted closer, our arms brushed together. _I haven't asked what happened to him or the others, either. I just assumed they were dealing with it, like I was. Fuck. I'm an asshole._ Gently, my elbow grazed his and I shifted away, no sense in creating rumors so early with new recruits.

"I don't sing The Chant of Light as much as I should, but you can't see something like that and _not_ believe." Mira finished, her gaze focused on her laced fingers. I lifted my head, peering at her and though I didn't know her well enough to tell, the Mark was clear with what she felt: _sorrow_. I held my teeth together to bite back my tears.

Bull rescued me as he stood, "Well, it's getting late. Grim and I should find our tents. Thanks for your time." There was no hesitation and I attempted to leave my seat as calmly as I could, walking in the wake of my Qunari as he twisted his way around the tents, breaking our line of sight with the soldiers and making his way back toward the main fort. My hands wiped at my dry face, phantom tears setting off my paranoia.

What a contrast between the two. My heart thudded away in my chest painfully and I raised a hand to hold over it, rubbing against the tunic. _Mira. Worn. Battle-tested. Veteran. I could feel the guilt and her pain. She wants to repent for the things she hasn't done. Oh, my poor creature._

And _Tanner_. I wasn't sure if his recruitment was impulse or premeditated action. Did he see the passing troops and grab his bag to run with them? His armor was new. Did he purchase that on his own or did his family gear him up for this cause? _Someone sent their son off to war._ I didn't have any kids myself, but I couldn't imagine my younger brother disappearing into the folds of the military.

Bull led us back out and the shadows of the main fort of Skyhold came over us. I trailed after him, silent as a mouse with my hands held to my chest in thought. I heard more than I saw his footsteps stop, but I walked forward and once my forehead hit the middle of his back, I stopped. A ragged inhale shook my lungs, I hadn't realized I was shaking until Bull's steady breathing was a comparison point.

We stood there, silent in the shadows for a good while before he turned to face me, stepping away as I looked up, exhausted by the day's events. _Why did we do this? What purpose did it serve? Were you trying to teach me something?_ A fluttering thought echoed between the speeding ones: _he's helping you_ , _he's trying to ground you._ He considered me with his only eye, the normal teasing humor muted in his expression.

"I know every soldier under my command." He started, voice low. " _You_ don't have that option, now as Inquisitor… but a few faces might help." For a split second, my shoulders bunched against my neck, a slash of accusation at the tip of my tongue for the stress. Reason fogged the anger when my thoughts proved true, he had only been trying to help. _It's harder to tell yourself to keep going, but easier to watch someone else try._ A hard sigh ripped through my mouth instead, I brought my palms to my temples and pressed inward.

"... thank you, Bull." I finally answered, the vinyl record crack in my voice. "This was… good."

Bull tilted his head, the same assessing tint in his gaze. "Gives you a bit of perspective, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," I nodded my head, my hands falling to my side as our gazes met. "People like Tanner are looking for an easy win, but… veterans like Mira know better, and are cautious. I'm… going to pass her along to Leliana." There was a beat of silence before a near feral, proud, toothy smirk shaped his mouth.

"Right you are. Good eye, boss." He lauded, the smirk strong. "You've got a good army coming along. Remember that, no matter what comes next." A strange sort of twisted affection knotted my gut and turned it into loops. A warm, distant sadness followed it as a slow and devastating realization claimed me.

"Yeah," I forced myself to say, a painted smile switched on to my face. "Thank you, Bull. Have a good night."

"Good night, boss." He smiled this time, tipping his head as if his horns were a hat and patted my shoulder before leaving me in my puddle of distress and frantic internal seizuring. I waited until he was out of earshot and I was halfway up the courtyard to my tent before slapping my hands over my face.

 _I'm in love._

 _Fuck._

 _Fuckity fuck._


	38. ACT II: Misery's Lovely Company

**ACT II:** _Misery's Lovely Company_

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 **Note:** _We'll get to more Jaime/Bull bits soon. I promise!_

* * *

The early morning sunrise glinted through the flaps of my tent. My back drenched in sweat as I laid in bed motionless, contemplating my life and the stupid decisions I've made thus far. The roof of the tent swayed with the gentle breeze and only the faintest of whispers drew up from the grass and the leaves that circled outside of my tent in the courtyard. I didn't want to face the day.

"The Commander is concerned." Cole hovered to the left side of my tent. He peered at me, upside down, his hat still stuck to his head even as he floated a good ways off the ground. "Worried, hurried, battered and confused — he thinks you're sick." Thankfully it was Cullen that was worried, not any other commander.

 _I am sick. In the head or the heart. Blame one._

"I cannot." Cole answered. I winced, forgetting he could hear my thoughts. "The head and heart are clear. Glowing, sifting, happy, thrilling." A laugh bubbled up from my chest and I threw back my covers. So much for the idea of hiding what I felt. Cole watched as I tumbled out of bed, shifting in the air to avoid hitting me.

"Yeah, I know." I sighed, running my hands through my hair and detangling the braid it was in. "I'm not sick. I don't suppose you could tell him that, could you?" Cole was silent, his hat twitched with a turn of his head as he looked out through the flaps of my tent.

"Yes." He answered, surprised. "They can see me. Yes. I will tell him." I glanced up to find my tent empty, the spirit gone away to do his task. _Here's hoping he doesn't scare the shit out of Cullen this time._ Out of bed, I took up residence at my wash bin, scrubbing my face and hair, cleaning out what I could of any necessary parts that ran afoul with scent before dressing.

Normally I was up and out of the tent at the speed of light, eager to be back in the mess of things (and what a change that was from months previous?), but today a fear gripped me of running into a certain Qunari. It wasn't as if Bull had Cole's ability to read my mind and guess at all the secrets I held. There was still that fear, though, that he _could_ read me, find the tangled web of emotion I bundled away deep in my soul.

Was it love? Doubtful. I was tired and extremely drained from the day before. I hadn't even finished all that I wanted to do, I still had to talk to Leliana about Hawke's information, and Josephine to get Dorian's books for research. I knew I had to check up on Cullen for the status of our people and Cassandra was someone in the ether that I had to snag before she got wind that Hawke had come around. There was so much to do and I felt our recovery phase slipping away.

Maybe I just latched on to that feeling of overwhelming relief when Bull came by to help _me_ and not the other way around. Granted, that also put _Solas_ in the same category, so it couldn't be love. Affection for the big lug, maybe, but not love. He was a Qunari, different race entirely despite the eagerness of some Sisters, and he was also a spy. He _openly_ admitted it; ignoring the months he had spent at my side, helping.

 _He also flirts with you_ , my mind supplied. I countered with; _Spy, they always will._

 _I jumped the gun. I know I did. You don't fall in love with someone that fast._ You couldn't have, because that's how murder mysteries started and you ended up on a crime show. My slacks came up next after I had dried up, my boots laced tightly and my tunic tucked in enough to be roguishly presentable. My hair was getting too long, I would have to find someone reputable to cut it. _Sera is already looking for an excuse, so best to keep my mouth shut about it until it's finished._

The distracted thoughts were not helping, my heart thrummed happily against my ribs, a purring cat wanting for attention. Ignorance was bliss, I decided, and brought over my vest before yanking on my armored back-brace and vambraces. My coat fitted on comfortably and once it was on, I realized I couldn't hide in my tent anymore.

 _I hate everything. That's it. That'll get me through the day. I swear to God, Jaime, if you make moon-eyes at the fucker, I'll fling us off the battlements._ I tied my scarf around my neck smartly.

I'm not sure where the dual personality had come from, but that was best left for another day. Once out of the tent, I could see that a good number of soldiers and merchants were already on the run, dashing through the yard with their things and scrolls. A few of Leliana's people hung around Cullen like bats, waiting and watching before taking flight at his orders. Cullen spied me over his papers once I was up near his table.

"Good morning." He greeted me, nodding his head in salute.

"Good morning?" I teased. "You look like death warmed over. I like the improvement!"

He snorted at me, but it got me a smile. "I'll take your judgement on it. Well. Reports, then."

"Reports." I agreed, nodding as well. He chuckled and reached for a few scrolls at his desk, unfurling them and pinning them to the surface. A soldier next to him came around the table and pinned a few others open as Cullen pushed the most important toward me, trusting that I could read the information.

"We set up as best we could at Haven, but nothing could have prepared us for an archdemon or — whatever it was." He cleared his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck again. "With some warning, we might have…" His gaze cast down to the table, shame taking his words.

"Hey," I reached out and tapped his pauldron, "we were all pretty shaken by what happened, Commander."

Cullen shook his head, "If Corypheus decides to come after us here, we may not be able to withdraw… I wouldn't want to." He stared down at the map of Skyhold. He knew better than most the defenses that housed us, as well as the likelihood of escape if it was needed. I had no doubt Skyhold had something in case we were overwhelmed, but I agreed with the Commander on this one.

I wasn't running a second time.

"So what have we got, then?" I prompted him out of his sorrow, hands folded behind my back as I peered at his work.

"The work on Skyhold is progressing nicely. We've had plenty of tradesmen come in from Orlais and Ferelden to help with the repairs." Cullen pointed to the roster that was unrolled furthest from me, a list of names that went two or three pages deep. "We've also set up guard rotations. By the end of this week, we should be settled."

I nodded, "I'm still amazed what we've managed to accomplished in the month we've been here."

"I will agree with you there. The people here have been motivated to succeed." He turned to me, the wrinkles of his face hard as he pursed his mouth and straightened his back. "We will not run from here, Inquisitor." My new title still hit like a truck. It had taken me _months_ to get used to 'Herald,' I could only hope I wouldn't trip so long on the newest name.

"How many did we lose?" I asked quietly, reeling under the title.

"Not many. Our civilians. I… have the final list being finished. Leliana will have it by this evening." He glanced off to the soldier that stood with him, the woman quiet as she nodded to me. "But morale has improved greatly ever since you accepted the role of Inquisitor."

"Inquisitor Welton." I rolled it on my tongue. The family name having been changed months ago, but it still felt foreign in my voice with the new title making it even less familiar. I huffed, amused. "It sounds really — _odd,_ don't you think?"

A glowing chuckle was my reward, "Not at all. We needed a leader, and you more than proved yourself for it."

"I…" Stunned, I floundered for a bit, unsure of how to take the praise. "You realize we did this together, right? You responded quickly to the attack on Haven. I'm grateful for that — without you, so many more would have died." He eyed me deeply, his gaze sifted like fine sand over my face, a muscle jumped at the back of his jawline.

"Thank you, Inquisitor." He ardently replied. "I'll do everything in my power to ensure the security of our people." His hand rose to his chest and the slight tap of his fist to his breastplate was his salute. A smile flashed across my face, _I'm glad you're doing better._ Miles from where he was back in my tent after I had been found, but I couldn't bring myself to say it while soldiers milled around us.

"— This thing is not a stray puppy you can make into a pet. It has no business being here." Vivienne's voice echoed over our heads. Cullen and I glanced up and watched as Cassandra and Solas trailed behind the ever-grand enchantress. The woman led the charge down the steps and seemed to make a beeline for us.

"Ah, this is my cue." Cullen muttered to me. He and his soldier rolled up their scrolls and lists before he swerved around me, a hand on my back as he leaned in close to my ear to whisper: "Good luck."

" _Traitor_ ," I hissed back at him, laughing quietly. Cassandra and Solas spotted me around the same time, with Cassandra's shoulders sagging in relief and Solas standing a bit straighter. _Ooh, fuck. I'm the deciding factor, am I?_ I needed a clue-in as to what the conversation was about first. I waited at the bottom of the steps watching the trio descend.

"Ah, good. Inquisitor." Vivienne called to me, laser-focused. My Mark twinged in my palm, the presence of Cole's form flickering at the corner of my vision. Solas made a move to finish the last of the stairs and stand in front of the spirit, warding off Vivienne. Cassandra took up her stance next to me, settling into place like a puzzle piece.

 _Fucking hell, I miss her._ I gave her a smile, so as not to embarrass her with my emotions.

"Lady Vivienne, I understand your position, but I disagree." Solas kept his face straight, feet planted firmly in front of Cole. "I dare say one could say the same of an apostate."

"Wait, hold the fuck up — are we arguing about _Cole?_ " I interjected, alarmed.

"Inquisitor, I wondered if Cole was perhaps a mage, given his unusual abilities." Cassandra explained hastily, bringing me up to speed of the argument. My bewilderment was clear on my face; _since when did Cole become an issue? What's he been doing these last few weeks?_

"He _can_ cause people to forget him, or even fail entirely to notice him." Solas glanced over his shoulder, as did I, but Cole had long disappeared. _Ah, wonderful. Now it's a goose chase._ Solas sighed sharply, "These are not the abilities of a mage. It seems that Cole is a spirit."

"Was that a question?" I asked, dumbfounded. "Even I knew that." All three turned to me, a piercing look in their gazes. _Did we not all know that? Just me? Christ._ I raised my left hand and waved it lightly, the Mark glowing faintly, pulsing as if greeting the people before me.

" _Wonderful_ ," Vivienne burned her words, "even more proof that it is a _demon_."

Solas was unphased, voice laced professionally. "If you would prefer. Although, the truth is somewhat more complex. In fact, I do not believe his nature is so easily defined."

"Speak plainly, Solas." Cassandra gave a frustrated growl. "What _are_ we dealing with?"

Solas' brow rose. "Demons normally enter this world by possessing something. In their true form, they look bizarre, monstrous."

"Right." I added, glancing between them. "Like when we found out that the demons coming through the Fade are just spirits trapped in the net." Solas smirked at me briefly, perhaps amused that of all the people around him, I wasn't the one that needed the explanation. It was pride I saw in his eyes.

 _Points to me, yay._

Cassandra held up a hand, halting the explanation. "But you claim Cole looks like a young man. Is it possession?"

"No." Solas shook his head, his tone pleasantly surprised. "He has possessed nothing and no one, and yet he appears human in all respects."

Vivienne scoffed, her arms folded under her bosom. "But he is _not_. He was not born human. Anything that is created from the Fade, even with the characteristics of humanity do not make them so." I had one hell of an argument for her concerning artificial insemination and tube babies. Again, more arguments and problems for a different day.

"Cole is _unique_ , Inquisitor." Solas stressed, turning to me with quiet pleading. "More than that, he wishes to help. I suggest you allow him to do so." _Had I not already done so? Or_ — wait. He wanted to help, but his previous request had only been to help _me_. A pause stretched between the four of us, my right hand came up to rub at my chin.

"I'm not entirely sure he's demonic, Vivienne." I placated the steaming enchanter, her frown searing a place at the side of my skull. "Working with the rifts, I've seen what happens to spirits who come _unwillingly._ "

"Cole predates the Breach." Solas added, stepping toward me. "From what we can tell, he has lived here for months, perhaps _years_. He _looks_ like a young man. For all intents and purposes, he _is_ a young man. It's remarkable." Cassandra was willing to settle behind me, allowing the conversation to flow between those more knowledgeable of spirits and their phases (not that I was an expert by any means). Vivienne closed up like a clam, seeing that Solas had taken the upperhand.

I raised my hand from my chin, stopping Solas. "I should hear what Cole has to say for himself." I stepped away from Solas and peered around our group, looking for the spirit in question. The ground around us was empty, the crowds of merchants off toward the stables hummed with life, but the tents at the bottom of the stairway were packed with the dying.

Cole walked among them.

I left my group with a wave of my hand to allow me the chance to talk to Cole. The surgeon moved around him as if he was non-existent, the patients at her feet stared aimlessly into the crowds and into the ground that Cole walking past them did little to deter their gaze. _Had it really been so surprising that he was a spirit? It seemed so natural to me that he was, I didn't think to question that he was a demon. Could be a demon._ I had always expected demons to be dangerous, both in my world and this one.

I guess I failed lesson number one, that a demon would be cunning.

"Haven." Cole whispered as I approached his side, his eyes jumped between faces. "So many soldiers fought to protect the pilgrims so they could escape." The surgeon greeted me with a tired, distracted salute and continued on; she had no time to stop and greet me properly. My waved hand was enough to relieve her of any responsibility to entertain me.

Cole continued, watching; "Choking fear. Can't think from the medicine but the cuts wrack me with every heartbeat." I closed my eyes and clamped my mouth tight. _He's listening to someone. Oh no._ A glance around the fallen soldiers, but I couldn't spot the one Cole had focused on, they all suffered with their wounds, all of them shuddering with each breath.

"Hot — white — pain. Everything burns. I can't, I _can't_ , I'm going to — I'm _dying_ , I'm —" With a vicious suddenness, tears flooded my eyes and willfully I forced myself to listen, watching as Cole fidgeted with his sleeves. _I know that fear._ My thoughts were shrouded by the shadows of the cave I had fallen into. _Oh god, do I know it_ — _who's he listening to? Christ Almighty_.

" —Dead." Cole intoned, turning to focus on a soldier at the far end of the camp. Gaze muddled by my tears, I turned to look as well, watching as the surgeon hissed in aggravation when the soldier faded away in her grip, his limbs going lax against the ground. A hand rose to my mouth and I held in a surprised hitch of pain that tried to escape.

"Cole," I was terrified to ask, but I had to, "are you feeling their _pain_?"

He paused to consider the question and answered quietly. "It's louder this close, with so many of them."

"Would — you like to go somewhere more comfortable?" But where would I take him? Everywhere in Skyhold, someone was hurting, someone was dying, or sick, or wounded. Pain here was inescapable, where could I possibly take him to stop it?

"Yes." He answered immediately, and then walked away from me. "But here is where I can help." A hesitant step forward was enough to follow him, walking away from the tents to someone else that laid on a cot, his eyes bandaged and his breathing shallow. He couldn't see us, but his head turned as if he could sense myself or Cole.

"Every breath slower. Like lying in a warm bath. Sliding away. Smell of my daughter's hair when I kiss her goodnight." Cole paused, confused. He looked down and his shoulders slumped as the soldier's chest flattened. "Gone." I couldn't handle the tears at my eyes. The heel of my right palm came up to wipe them away, caught off-guard by the sudden emotion I was feeling.

 _Goddamn this stupid Mark._

"Cracked brown pain. Dry, scraping. Thirsty." Cole latched onto another and dove away, hastened by what he was feeling. I was glued to my spot, watching as he snatched a small pitcher of water and a cup from behind the Chantry Mother's back and took it away, heading back to a soldier not far from where I stood.

"Here." He knelt by the woman, pouring her a cup of water and helping her drink. She swallowed the offering greedily, gasping quietly as the water touched her throat, her eyes closing softly in relief.

"Thank you," she breathed, lying back onto her bedroll. Cole left the pitcher of water and the cup near her. He glanced up at me, pausing for a moment before he hunched his shoulders and came back to my side, quiet.

"It's alright." He explained. "She won't remember me." I didn't know what to say, stunned as I was. The Mark hummed in my hand at Cole's proximity and I clenched my fingers around it, alarmed by the sensation. What was he? What was _I_ now that I could feel him and what he was doing? A gentle turn of my head, I could see him at my side.

"So you're using your powers as a spirit to help people?" I asked quietly, unsure if the people around me could see him, or think I was crazy for talking to myself if he wasn't visible. Cole shifted at my side, our arms brushing. He felt warm, real and solid. I had only ever gotten close enough to the demons from the rift to feel their power through my Mark, but not if they actually felt like flesh. I shuddered, wondering what else I missed.

"Yes." He answered, tipping his head toward me. "I used to think I was a ghost. I didn't know. I made mistakes… but I made friends, too." He shifted on the balls of his feet, his fingers tapping together before snagging his sleeves and tugging. Was he nervous? Or did he understand himself even less than we did?

He shook his head, "Then a Templar proved I wasn't real. I lost my friends. I lost everything."

"Cole…" I started, but quickly derailed. What on earth would I say? _Could_ I say? Proved he wasn't real? That didn't answer whether he was a spirit or a demon. Did all unwilling spirits turn into grotesque monsters or just the ones forced through? That was also completely ignoring the question of: _how the fuck did he get here?_

"I learned how to be more like what I am!" Cole whispered hastily, his kaleidoscope eyes finding mine. "It made me different, but _stronger_. I can feel more — I _can_ help." Hesitation gripped me and I turned back to look for the group that wanted on us. Cassandra waited, ever patient for me, her face mildly lax with disinterest. She would trust whatever decision I came up with, and that weighed on my heart.

Vivienne and Solas watched, one vexed by the time I was taking to examine the situation, the other one comfortably settled that my decision had been made. I sighed; I knew what the answer would be. I raised a hand and waved at them, dismissing them. _Cole will stay_ , I signalled. Vivienne immediately riled up and raised her chin in the air, strutting away like God's Wrath. Cassandra nodded her head, waiting for Solas who smirked at me, pleased.

 _Fucking hell, just making things more complicated by the second._

"If you're willing, Cole." I turned back to him, my voice stronger with my decision. "Then stay and help us."

"Yes, helping." He sighed, relieved. "I help the hurt, the helpless, there's someone…" He turned to look at me, his eyes bright with purpose, but sorrow pulled at his mouth. His voice echoed in my head, humming through my Mark as he focused. Another's voice reverberated under Cole's gentle tone, a quake of pain laced through the connection.

 _Hurts, it hurts, it hurts! Someone make it stop hurting, Maker please_ —

"Stop," I exhaled, raising a hand, my eyes shut.

Cole paused, watching me. A dagger glinted in his hand. "The healers have done all they can. It will take him hours to die. Every moment will be agony, he wants mercy. Help." My body shuddered under my head, a phantom pain that stole my lungs from me and weakened my knees. I closed my eyes, listening as someone suffered through it firsthand.

 _Mending for the bleeding, a dagger for the dying._ The shaman Amund flashed through my mind, his tone casual and reassured in his duty. I glanced at Cole, unsure if I should lay such responsibility on him. It would be careless to trust solely on his judgement, non-human as he was.

Even as an Angel of Death, we could not just kill wantonly, kill only because the immediate moment seemed bleak. My heart thudded with pain and the Mark rumbled deep in my arm. _But it will take him hours to die._

"Help them." I answered softly, my gaze on Cole. "But only when there is no other option. Do you understand? You are the last resort, not the first one."

Cole smiled at me with a nod, and between one blink in the next, he was gone.

 _Christ. What have I done?_


	39. ACT II: Putting On A Show For The Masses

**ACT II:** _Putting On A Show For The Masses_

* * *

 **Note:** _Holy shit, guys, I'm going to throw up, this chapter was a BITCH to write. I couldn't cut it off anywhere. Have fun! Again, I don't have a beta, so any mistakes are my own and this is for pure fun._

* * *

"Inquisitor!"

I paused in my tracks, glancing about me in surprise. _When was the last time I actually saw Josephine?_ Finally with a tilt of my head up, I could spy her at the middle landing between the second courtyard and the main fort. She waved at me not wishing to shout, and signaled for my approach. Confused, I left the healing tents and made my way up the steps toward her.

"Yes, ma'am?" I asked once I was a few feet away from her. She glowed, in a far better mood and grace than previously. _She does love it when a plan comes together._ I couldn't help but smile at her, a low chuckle in my chest. "You seem exceptionally happy about something."

"Well, perhaps _happy_ is not the right word, but yes. I am pleased with the situation. Here, come, if you would?" She addressed me with a small bow and took a moment to wait for me, pacing herself by my side as we walked up into the main hall.

"Is there something happening?" I asked, noting that the hall itself echoed with noise, the dim purring of voices echoed from within, a cathedral's call of the faithful. There were banners with the Inquisition's symbol that hung from the walls, framing the doorway and windows. The glass polished and shining, with the wood frames of the doors glowing from oil and repair.

"Yes." Josephine nodded to the guards that stood at the massive entrance. "We mean to prepare you _now_ as something must be done soon."

"I am freaking out with the vague explanation here, Josephine." I admitted, a worm of worry curled in my gut as we entered, the ceiling breathing up before us, banners swaying from their pegs at each pillar. The stone beneath shining from wax and clean up, a line of pews settled on either side of the walkway, facing the main interior where the end was raised in a platform with stairs.

"Well, you see —" She began.

"Josephine." I cut off, pointing to the front. "Is that a fucking _throne_?"

She puffed at my curse, coming into her full height. "It's impressive, no? Fit for a leader. Meant to show influence — and the burden of it." She walked up to it as I followed her, numbed from the neck down. _I cannot fucking believe this, what the fuck_.

The throne was _massive_. A hard wood of darkened, nearly burnt coloring — _is that Ebony wood?_ — with a red tint not unlike the hue of blood. Spears jutted out from behind it like a sunburst with the golden eye of the Inquisition emblazoned at the center. Extreme vibes from _Game Of Thrones_ tumbled through my whirling thoughts.

I walked up to it, fearing to touch it but curiosity driving me to do so. The wood was smooth as water to the touch, the insignia of the Inquisition was con _cave_ rather than convex, carved deep into the ballooning back of the chair. All of it tapered down toward the cushioned seat, buttoned and nailed into the wood with gold caps that shone brightly against the blood-red cloth.

"When the fuck did we get this?" I asked into the ether. Josephine cleared her voice behind me, stepping up beside the throne and glancing it over.

"Last night. We — understand that you prefer to have a minimalistic style." Josephine tuttered, smoothing her fingers over a bare armrest to avoid my startled look toward her. "As Inquisitor, there are certain responsibilities and duties you will be expected to perform."

"Like saving the fucking world isn't enough?" I snipped sharply. She frowned at me and I sighed, "Sorry, just — are we being serious here? Am I understanding you right, you're asking me to be a — what, a sovereign _power_?"

"You are a beacon of law, Inquisitor." Josephine attempted to placate me, her words firm. "As all others retreat from responsibility, you will be looked to as a pillar of justice."

" _Why_ are we deeming me fit to judge _anyone_?" I hissed quietly, stepping a bit closer to her, a hand's length between us. My internal organs were on fire as fear raced through my veins. The idea alone of sitting before _anyone_ to pass judgement were all of my worst nightmares combined. Crowds. Attention. Pressure to perform. _Choosing_. My words floated between us, thankfully the echo was muted to just our area as she straightened her shoulders, assessing her words.

" _You_ are _our_ leader, you were from the moment you took up the title of Inquisitor." Josephine explained, retaining as much of her calm demeanor as she could. "The Inquisition sovereignty is derived from the allies that validate it. The people _trust_ you and chose to follow you. Would it be such a leap to accept your judgement of their disputes?"

"Hold up, are there actually things _to_ judge?" My voice cracked, blindsided.

"Yes. Those who have done wrong. You will know _of_ them, at the very least." She explained with a nod, and then tilted her head at my whirlwind look of confusion. "All this presumes they have survived their initial encounter with you, of course."

 _The Hand of Korth,_ my wayward thoughts chimed up.

A deep and extended sigh escaped me, my lungs popped from stress. I brought my hands up to my face and held them to my eyes and forehead, breathing for a moment, asking for peace and patience as I considered the new turn of events. _I should have seen this coming. I_ knew _it was coming when we first got here, there was no way to avoid this_ — _and I can't now, not without upsetting a loooot of people._

 _Fuck me, this day is just_ great.

"This needn't be bloody, Inquisitor." Josephine guessed at my state of mind, leaning in with a hand on my arm to lower it. It came down to have our gazes meet and she offered me a small, sympathetic smile. "Here, you are both empowered and bound. Justice has many tools. If their application is clever, execution may even seem merciful by comparison."

"That doesn't help, Josephine, but — I understand." Painfully, I understood now the mantle I had taken on, my mind flashing back to the first months of my arrival here, where the floundering pilgrims looked to me as the Herald for guidance. _We leveled up. Yay… fuck._ A exhale rattled my chest and I focused on Josephine, knowing she hadn't brought me here just to show me the throne.

"I take it we have duties to perform today?"

-0-

Indeed we had duties to perform today. The judgements weren't going to occur until the evening, so we had the rest of the afternoon to prep me. I was holed up in Josephine's new office, barren for the moment aside from a desk and chair, and the glowing fireplace. Leliana was silent in the background, standing in the corner of the room as Josephine covered the specifics.

"I take it there was some form of judiciary procedures in your world, correct?" Josephine tuttered behind me, her hands pulling and tugging at the newest coat they had slipped me into (apparently my regular blood-stained clothes, though intimidating, were unacceptable for public court).

"Yeah. Not to make it complicated, but usually the judge was the last stop." I answered, swaying a bit as I was tugged to the left, the tails of my coat straightened out.

"True. In this case, you will be listening to the grievances of your public, for all parties if there is more than one." She tugged again, but this time upwards, and moved around front to adjust the lip of my pants over my hips. "Goodness, we might need to have this tailored again. I thought I had the measurements correct."

I laughed, "What happened, did I grow out instead of up?"

"Oh, goodness, no!" Josephine chuckled, buttoning a few plaits on the side. "You've gotten a bit smaller around the waist. Are you eating?"

"I — yes?" I answered, pleasantly confused. _When was I thrust back into younger-sibling status?_ I gave her a shrug of my shoulders. "I think? I had breakfast, at the very least." She huffed at me and continued. I knew the sound for what it was, having heard Jake make the same noise when he didn't believe an answer. _Ah, to be young and irresponsible again._

"So, I'm going to look presentable. Do we know how many of these I'm doing today?" I asked, my hips jerking for a moment as my belt was straightened and tightened, my arms lifted briefly as Josephine reached along my ribs and shifted my blouse around.

"There two, and we are to use these to set the precedent of what to expect of the Inquisition." Leliana chimed in from her shadows. Her hip was pressed against Josephine's desk as she watched us, her eyes drawn to Josephine's movements around me.

"Is that because I'm expected to kill someone or no?" I asked precariously, glancing over at my Spymaster.

Leliana shrugged, nonplussed. "It will be your decision. This is to show our intent, that all who come before us will be judged according to the law."

"The law being… _me_." I sighed. Josephine stepped away from her fussing and I took the time to stretch my hands over my head before resting at my sides. Josephine moved me toward her mirror in the corner, where it stood tilted on its stand, unassuming and out of sight unless needed. She stepped around me and tilted it down so I could take a look.

My mouth screwed in surprise, "I… wow. Is that me?"

"Oh, yes!" Josephine grinned, brimming with pleasure. "I daresay you've bloomed beautifully." Not that I could contest her, I wasn't sure what the standard of beauty was in comparison. Humans, elves, dwarves, and even Qunari (though I hadn't seen anyone else than Bull), were an enormous variety of what 'beauty' could be.

Head to foot, I was decked in firm cloth, stitched tight and curving over my form. The colors were muted, to either impress or disquiet without being gnarly or gross. Dark, devastating copper-reds for the main coat, with black trousers and black belts that hooked around my hips. My boots were darkened leather that hiked up to just over my knees and there was gold inlay and trim all throughout the outfit, both in coat and trousers as well as my boots.

"I look like the goddamn Nutcracker King." I laughed, turning slightly to glance at the back of the coat, embroidered with the Inquisition insignia squared from shoulder to shoulder in black stitching. My hair had been detangled and braided along the right side of my head. It went down and combed loose from the base of my skull then over to my left shoulder, with only a few strands to come down my face, the rest behind my ears.

"The who?" Josephine questioned with a blink. She came around to my side and peered at me through the silver mirror. "I think you look rather dashing — handsome? Which would you prefer?"

"Josephine," I snorted, amused, "anything _you_ call me is just fine." Leliana smirked behind us as she came up, Josephine's ears going red to the tips and I couldn't help another laugh, feeling a strange disconnected, out of body experience with the whole thing. Clothes made the person, for sure. _I feel like a character in a story, this is so weird. Cool!_

Here was hoping I didn't immediately sour the situation with sending someone to the gallows.

"We will have an audience, you must look the part." Leliana explained, glancing at a spot on my shoulder and tugging it into place. "The hall will be filled with our resident subjects, as well as the nobility who sponsor us, and our soldiers along the walls." A bundle of nerves skittered through my guts at the mental image painted in my mind. It would be a full house since this would be the first of many duties I was going to perform as Inquisitor.

"Question." I asked into the mirror, watching the ladies next to me. "If someone disagrees with my judgement, is there a course of action they can take to overturn it?"

Josephine twitched, surprised. "Ah, no? Not — usually. Your word is absolute here in Skyhold. Other sovereign countries or powers will occasionally send you their disputes, as you are a neutral party, and you'll pass judgement."

"Though, if I understand your concern, if the accused party or parties feel they did not receive justice, they can petition their country of origin." Leliana stepped around my side and came to face me, nodding as her eyes swept over me to inspect the full effect. "That will be rare, though, as they have been sent to the Inquisition for judgement _because_ their country could not settle on a verdict."

"Yikes," I murmured, inhaling to stretch my lungs under the fitted blouse and coat. "That makes sense, I guess. Means I really gotta make sure I do this right and not become a tyrant."

"That is doubtful." Leliana replied softly with her gaze settling on my face. "We would not have trusted you to the position of Inquisitor if we believed for a moment you would abuse the power."

"You've secured alliances throughout Ferelden and Orlais. The nobility stand for the Inquisition as a viable power to fix the catastrophe we're in." Josephine stood next to Leliana, her hands folded before her, resting against her stomach. "Until the Chantry is reestablished, _we_ are the word of justice."

"And isn't that just a scary thought." It came under my breath, so I sighed and nodded. "Alright. You said this was going to happen this evening?"

"Yes." Josephine walked over to her desk, Leliana and I followed quietly. "One of your judgements this day will be Chief Movran the Under. You killed his son, The Hand of Korth, but he was arrested for harassment."

"Oh, that's going to be a mess." I muttered. "The other? You said I had two?"

"Knight-Captain Denam." Leliana replied at my side. "The Commander has also put in an official request to be allowed to face the accused."

I blinked, "Can he? He's not a Templar, he's the Inquisition Commander. Is it personal?"

"In a way, yes." Leliana smirked at me briefly. "I'm pleased to see that you did not immediately agree. The Commander would be allowed to make his statement against the accused, but he would not be allowed to suggest judgement."

"Ah." I answered with understanding. "Speak now or forever hold your peace, like a wedding. Kinda."

"Uh. Yes?" Josephine agreed, utterly confused. I resisted the urge to chuckle, _I guess they don't do that here. Oops._ "In any case, the full details of the situation will be provided to you at the trial, and you will pass judgement upon the parties."

"Oh, boy." I exhaled. Flying, electrified jitters were jumbling around in my lungs at the thought. "Do I have to wear this every time we have to hold court? Why does this one have to happen now?"

"You won't always wear the same uniform, as Josephine has loved dressing you in different colors." Leliana murmured, highly amused and avoiding Josephine's quiet pout. "But _a_ uniform is necessary as official representation, and as for why it must be now —"

"Chief Movran has been in our custody two weeks after you had returned to Haven from the Mire." Josephine clarified, glancing through the parchment pieces on her desk. "By rights, he should have had a swift judgement, but between the destruction and rebuilding…"

"And Knight-Captain Denam has recovered from his injuries." Leliana picked up, her lips white as they pressed together with distaste. "He is now demanding that he be released into the hands of Orlais, but as there is no Divine to judge her Templar, it falls to you."

"So it's time-sensitive, then." I nodded. "Is Orlais or Ferelden pressuring us to release either of them?" Leliana and Josephine shared a look across the desk, a whole conversation flashed in the span of seconds before Leliana turned away and Josephine nodded.

"Yes." Leliana answered. "More Orlais than anyone else on Movran's behalf. They are concerned that the Inquisition harboring a known aggressor, a Templar, amongst its own without judgement is a statement in itself."

"Oh." I replied, numb. "Oh, shit. No, yeah, I get that. Gotta get that shit outta here quick, then."

"Agreed." Leliana and Josephine answered. Josephine cleared her throat, "For now, we have a few more hours to go over the legalities you will be facing. Let's take that time now, and have you practice moving in that outfit."

"Right," I griped, "Gotta look natural. Ready, steady, go."

-0-

Evening struck, and I could hear the Main Hall fill with incoming guests, witnesses to the first judgement to be passed in Skyhold after its revival. Leliana had left us long ago, agreeing to oversee the court from the balcony, but choosing to remain out of sight. Josephine would be my recorder and prompter, and Cullen was going to double as plaintiff and bailiff. I'm sure that was illegal _somewhere_.

"Remember!" Josephine took one more sweep over my person, checking for flaws. " _You_ command the floor. This is _your_ Great Hall, and these are your subjects. You are the first and last, the only power that matters in that room. Yes?"

"Yes." I croaked, twisting my neck briefly to keep from choking on my collar. "Yes, I know." _I know and I'm about ready to shit my pants. Crowds were never my thing._ A deep inhale through my nose and out through my mouth, brushing Josephine's hair near my face. She patted my back and clucked her tongue.

"There. Magnificent." She approved with a nod of her head. "They should be seated now. I shall go out first and introduce you by your title. Are you ready?"

"No." I immediately replied, voice tight. "But that doesn't matter, right?"

"Unfortunately, it does not. On my mark, Inquisitor." Josephine left me to my turbulent thoughts and marched out through the door, the Main Hall going quiet as Josephine came into view. I could hear her voice echo through the hall and vibrate through the stone. I inhaled deeply, holding my breath and closing my eyes to concentrate.

"All rise! The Court of the Inquisition to commence! The honorable Inquisitor Jaime Welton presiding!"

 _Don't trip._

The wooden door groaned as it swung open and the world slowed to a crawl. Each breath I took swelled in my ears like the tide, loud and insistent. I refused to look toward the pews that lined either side of the Main Hall, knowing that if I did, I would vomit all over my new boots. Silence prevailed, my boot heels clacked against the stonework and echoed in my head.

My shoulders were squared and pulled back, neck straight with a downward tilt to my chin as Josephine had instructed. Her voice floated through my thoughts: _Humbled by power, but not haughty. You are not nobility, you are your people. Do not look down your nose at them._ I did my best to keep my expression clear and somber; that wasn't hard with enough bloodshed on my hands to rekindle old memories.

I came to the throne and lowered myself into it with as much grace as I could muster, my gaze unfocused as I raised my head and seemingly peered into the crowd. I focused out through the corner of my eyes to avoid the stares of the people before me; the overwhelming heat I felt growing under my throat at the Main Hall's full attention upon my small, lonesome person was stifling.

 _Don't. Don't you dare throw up._

I hesitated for a nanosecond, screaming internally at how to position my legs. _Princess hook behind an ankle or do I cross them? Fuck! Of all the times not to remember._ My mind settled on crossing my legs over the knee, keeping my thighs tight together, my leg hung like a throw-rug against my other leg, loose and swaying with the natural bounce of my muscles.

I was resisting the painful urge to bounce my leg quicker from sheer anxiety.

I finally focused once I was relatively positive I wasn't about to throw up or pass out from the enormity of the situation. A swarm of faces greeted me, some masked, others painted full to their hairlines, others clear complexion as they stared back, their gazes flickering between my every twitch and move. All along the sides against the wall stood the gleaming armor of the Inquisition's soldiers, their black and golden armor polished to shine and their helmets hiding their faces. The very picture of an unstoppable, palatable force to face.

There was a long stretch of a deep emerald carpet that flowed from my throne down the steps and down the long path between the wooden pews toward the main entrance. At the door I could see another set of figures, more soldiers, who stood and faced out. At the walls along the main door there were a few rows of Templars that shifted anxiously against themselves, a quivering mass of nervous energy.

I looked up to the balcony. Vivienne and Solas stood on either side of Leliana, who was centered against the railings, her arms crossed over the stone rail that housed them safely above the main hall. Dorian was further along the lower stairs to the left of them, curiously watching the scene before him.

A swallow went down my dry throat and I brought my gaze heavily to Josephine who stood to my right at the front of the audience, just in front of her I could see Bull and Krem standing side by side against the wall. They stood before the hanging banner from the first pillar. _They're hidden from the crowd._ Realization struck and pleasure warmed me that they stood there for my protection or Josephine's. A flood of seawater relief choked my lungs, stinging each breath.

Krem gave me a firm nod and Bull crossed his arms with a smirk.

Electricity surged through my spine and though I had already been sitting straighter than a rod, the strength was finally there to match it. My shoulders felt like unfurled wings and the tilt of my chin was more for the soft smirk on my lips than any humility that I felt. Josephine blinked, perhaps seeing the change, and she fought her own smile, her shoulders twitching lower with relief.

 _Let's do this._

"This was a surprise to the Inquisition. After Inquisitor Welton returned from the bogs, we discovered this man attacking." Josephine turned away from me, a dancer's twist on her heels to face the accused, addressing the audience before us. I leaned back in my seat, my elbows on the armrests, my hands in my lap. _Proper. Polite. Disinterested._ Just as Josephine had taught me.

"This man arrived and proceeded to attack our fort, with a… goat." Josephine faltered briefly, unsure of how to present the information to the crowd without being causing a ruckus of laughter. The crowd shifted and murmurings crawled between the bodies, louder as the seconds grew.

"Silen _ce_." I called out, letting the last letter ring against my throat. The word ricocheted through the hall. It was chilling how quickly they fell into a deathly silence. My gaze shifted to Josephine and she nodded in thanks. The chief was escorted forward, his footfalls heavy and muffled against the carpet. His horned helmet swung from one side to another, nearly taking the ear of one of my soldiers. He grinned under his beard at me once he was at the first series of steps.

"Chief Movran the Under." Josephine introduced him with a wave of her hand. "He feels slighted by the killing of his Avvar Tribesmen. _Who_ repeatedly attacked the _Inquisition_ first."

My attention shifted from Josephine's golden form to the blue and white muscular form of the chieftain. He bowed his head only forcibly when both Inquisition soldiers on either side of him glared. His teeth flashed under his lips, but he bowed, raising his head soon after, tugging at his manacled wrists to have the chain rattle loudly in the hall. I tilted my head, the rest of my body unmoving in the throne, my focus on the Avvar.

"You answered the death of your clan… with a goat?" I asked, hardening my voice to keep the crowd from breaking into another round of quiet chuckling or snickering. _We have to set the impression_ _that this isn't a game. This is real. This has consequences._ I exhaled, waiting for my answer with a raised brow.

"A courtroom? Unnecessary!" The Chieftain laughed, his voice thrumming deep from his chest. "You killed my idiot son, and I answered, as is my custom. By _smacking_ your holdings with goat's blood." I blinked, mildly alarmed at multiple things: one, that he managed to get _to_ the fort from outside, and two, he threw a goat hard enough to splatter it against the stone wall.

 _Holy fuck._ I turned to Josephine, my brow raised higher.

Josephine shook her head, "Don't look at me."

I fought a laugh. _Remember, maintain composure. Serious. No laughing. But holy fuck is that funny as hell._ My lips pursed to hold back my amusement, hopefully creating a severe look.

"No foul! He meant to murder Tevinters, but got feisty with your Inquisition." Chief Movran shook his head, spitting nicely to one side. "A redheaded mother guarantees a brat!" He grinned and rattled his chains again, the soldiers next to him nervous and alert for any attempt from him to bolt away or toward me. I greatly doubted that he'd get past Bull fast enough.

Cullen stood taller just off to my left, eyes glued to the Avvar, his hand tight on the pommel of his sword. I was surprised to spot Blackwall in the alcove of Harritt's door that led into his smithy, hidden in his own black clothing amongst the shadows, his glare out for the world to see. Another grin wanted to fight its way to my face; what a feeling to be surrounded by one's companions.

"Do as you've earned, Inquisitor." The chieftain eyed either side, undisturbed by the display. He laughed at me, "My clan yields. My remaining boys have brains still in their heads!" I considered the man before me, as large and imposing as Amund had been when we first met. My gaze drew a long, quiet look from his boots to his horned helmet, wondering at the best course of action.

 _Tevinters?_ I refused to look up and over to Dorian. The mage himself was willing to kill his own countrymen for the safety and security of a future without Corypheus. _Who says I can't do the same?_ My eyes never left Movran, knowing that anything less would be seen as weakness.

 _This is my court. You're in my house now._

"It seems our conflict was accidental, Chief Movran." I answered, my voice echoing off the stonewalls, reverberating toward the entrance. My shoulders shifted higher against the back of the throne, allowing me to project as best I could. "Unfortunately, that can't be repeated."

 _I lost no soldiers to your son,_ my scouting party had only been taken hostage to goad me into a fight. _But that doesn't mean I want it happening again. I don't know your customs, but I won't have you impose them on me or mine._

"Chief Movran," I called his name, drawing his gaze up to my face, "I banish you and your clan — with as many weapons as you can carry — to Tevinter." _Because then you're someone else's problem, not mine._ This also ensured that Tevinter had to divert their resources elsewhere as well. There was a ripple that went through the audience. Dorian's laugh, a quick bark of amusement, echoed through the Hall and it gave me some peace of mind that I hadn't overstepped.

Krem grinned from ear to ear, nudging Bull's side briefly. The Qunari waved him off, shushing him, but I couldn't ignore the satisfied grin that settled on his face.

 _Whew._

The Chief laughed, "My idiot boy got us something after all!"

"By the decree of the Inquisition, Chief Movran the Under is hereby banished to the lands of Tevinter with the means to arm himself and his clan in their exile." Josephine declared over the rumblings of the crowd, her voice musical through the Hall. "Chief Movran, you and your clan are to return under pain of death."

The Inquisition soldiers saluted us and took the Chief up by his elbows and lead him back toward the exit, but the Avvar only laughed and willingly followed, his grin gleaming across his face. I settled back into my throne and closed my eyes briefly with a sigh, releasing the tension that had bundled up in my chest. _Gonna end up giving myself heartburn if I keep that up._ The silence prevailed until the Avvar was out of the Hall and Cullen turn toward Josephine first before focusing his attention on me.

The muscles along his jaw jumped as his gaze met mine. I remained as I was, stoic and immobile, my head only turned toward him, chin tilted. _No favoritism. Remain neutral._ Thank god for Josephine, otherwise I would be a mess. Cullen walked up the steps toward me and saluted with his fist across his chest. My nod allowed him to continue.

"Knight-Captain Denam, Inquisitor. He awaits judgement for serving the Lord Seeker at Therinfal Redoubt." Cullen's voice was gravel on the stones, bouncing around the throne with his veiled anger. He stopped on the highest landing, only a handful of feet from me.

"I knew some of the Knights who died there. I request to oversee his sentencing." Cullen nodded around to the crowd, explaining his presence in the court. More murmurs grew up from the audience, the Templars at the entrance clustered together, unsure if the atmosphere was directed at them as a whole.

I raised a hand and all attention came to me, "Your request is granted on the condition that you accept any sentence I deliver."

"I accept, Inquisitor." Cullen bowed his head gratefully and turned to signal toward the entrance. My heart was ringing in my ears. _This is different. An Avvar man escapes death with weapons, but a Templar? A man that killed his kin for what? Power? Christ._ A swallow shot down my throat as Denam was led up to the front, standing before me in the same place as Movran.

Cullen drew himself high, "Denam knew the dangers of red lyrium. He murdered the Knight-Vigilant and corrupted his brothers and sisters." The Knight-Captain had his chin tucked to his neck, his gaze boring holes into the stones beneath his feet. For this man, the soldiers held onto his arms with steel grips and their stances were wide to barricade him in case he bolted.

 _Did you attempt to run before this?_

I raised a hand to stop Cullen, my attention on Denam. "I question the lucidity of the Knight-Captain. Answer me, are you of sound and sober mind to understand the charges against you?" _I am not about to convict a man out of his mind. We don't know what the effects of red lyrium are even if he's recovered from his injuries._ Cullen looked at me askant, surprised at my interruption.

The Knight-Captain brought his seething glare from the ground to my face. I could see the scars of pot-marks and brawls along his jaw and cheeks. His hair fell from his eyes and framed his face, darkening the grit of his teeth as he shifted in the hold of the soldiers.

"I only did as I was told!" He snarled at me.

Cullen stepped forward, his tone searing. "We found everything! The corpse of the Knight-Vigilant, even the papers proving you _knew_ red lyrium was poisonous!"

"Commander." I let the word drop like a gavel. Cullen shuddered with irritation, drawing his spine straight with his fiery gaze nailed to Denam. The Knight-Captain turned away from him and settled his eyes on me before they slipped away to the floor.

"There is a greater power walking this world!" Denam hissed, his shoulders hunched painfully. "I wasn't fool enough to deny it. None of you would have. I _demand_ justice!" My leg lowered from my knee, my hands moved to the ends of the armrest and my gaze floated to Cullen. Everyone in my near vicinity froze. Cullen and Josephine stiffened like rabbits to run, Blackwall straightened his back against the door with Harritt disappearing into it.

Krem and Bull straightened near the banner, their arms dropping in preparation.

A weird giddy moment of surprise bubbled in my stomach. _What the hell did they just see? I only put my leg down, guys, holy shit._

"Commander Cullen." My foot hooked behind the opposite ankle as I turned to face him. "Inquisition forces found the body of the Knight-Vigilant and we are accusing Knight-Captain Denam of his murder. The court awaits proof that it was by the hand of Denam that this murder was committed."

Like the threat of rolling thunder and hail, the courtroom went intensely still. The Commander looked to me as if I betrayed him, but I keep my mouth firm and my shoulders level with my gaze. _I will not fall into the trap of trusting someone's word without evidence. The Salem Witch Trials may not exists here but I know better._

"We have proof, Inquisitor." Josephine interrupted softly. She cleared her throat and gestured toward the wall where Bull and Krem stood. From behind the banner, Knight Templar Delrin Barris appeared. My attention swirled around like wildfire and Ser Barris held my gaze for a brief second before bowing his head to me, a fist across his chest. Denam snarled at him, alarmed.

"Your Worship," Barris straightened, determined. "When you took Knight-Captain Denam into custody, he would have had a ring of keys that opened the doors to their respective rooms and offices, back in Therinfal." Denam's face fell and he made to clutch at his side, but he was stripped of any weapon or article of personal items. I got Josephine in my sights.

"This is true, Inquisitor." She immediately answered, folding her hands before her. "We have this evidence in our possession, found on Denam's person when he was brought into custody."

"Knight Templar Barris," I returned to him, twisting only slight in my seat, "Would any other Templar have access to these keys, or know where to acquire them if the Knight-Captain did not have them?"

"Inquisitor! You're not insinuating —" Cullen approached the throne heatedly and for a moment, I felt panic rise in my throat. _I'm not about to lose control in our first session, Cullen!_ Without a second thought, I stood from the throne and faced him, staring him down as one would an approaching beast. Cullen stayed his step and gripped his sword, but didn't move.

Blackwall relaxed just beyond the corner of my vision, but I noticed he was far closer to the throne than he had been before. _Control. Bring it back into control, Jaime, don't let them think there's infighting._

"Cooler heads will reign, Commander." I answered him, tension was the only thing that kept my body from shaking with nerves and anxiety. _Breathe, Jaime._ "I am not insinuating anything. As a neutral party, the Inquisition must consider all sides of the account, even those we cannot fathom. Am I understood?"

There was silence.

My eyes narrowed. "Am I _understood_ , Commander?"

"Understood, Inquisitor." Commander Cullen exhaled, releasing his shoulders from their pinch. There was a beat as he took the moment to close his eyes and disengage. He stepped away from me with a bow of his head. Quickly, I shifted my attention to Barris and the poor man snapped upright from a trigger.

"I asked a question, Ser Barris." I reminded him.

Barris swallowed. "These keys are only accessible to our higher command. If any other Templar were to have them, they were given the keys by their supervisor. He also refused our requests to clear out the Knight-Vigilant's quarters."

"Do we know how long the Knight-Vigilant was dead?" I asked between my two prompters. Cullen kept his mouth tight and didn't answer me, so I turned to Josephine and she twitched slightly, but nodded her head.

"According to the reports from our healers, the Knight-Vigilant had been dead for near on a week." Josephine's nose scrunched and she turned to Barris, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Templar Barris. Explain how this absence went unnoticed until the arrival of the Inquisition?" _Good, thank you, Josephine._ At least someone was siding with my line of thinking.

Barris' face darkened with shame. "We were advised that the Knight-Vigilant had abandoned his post. The state we were in, we could not question the information. I accept responsibility for the transgression."

"Who told you he had abandoned his post, Ser Barris?" I asked firmly.

"Knight-Captain Denam. The other veterans were unaware." Barris replied with certainty. "There was infighting during our congregation, as there was no one to fill the post so suddenly. The Envy demon, then Lord Seeker Lucius, confirmed it."

"Traitor!" Denam screamed at him, hauling at the grips of the soldiers. Barris ignored him, so Denam only screamed louder. "You _knew_ we wouldn't survive on our own! This was the only way! We would have been slaughtered otherwise!"

"Perhaps death would have been better than this dishonor." Barris answered quietly, his head bowed.

"Knight-Captain Denam." I cut through the man's growling with a step forward. "If you had chosen to support Corypheus, and your letter proves that you were _aware_ of the poisonous nature of the red lyrium and that it would ultimately destroy the body — is the end result not the same as slaughter?"

"Some of us would have survived!" Denam spat at me, mouth drawn back in a snarl. The soldiers held onto his arms, one of them had hooked his leg around Denam's ankle to keep him in place. "Not all that drank the lyrium succumbed to the effects. The Elder One knew —" He snarled, yanking at his arm in frustration, nearly knocking one of the soldiers from their stance.

 _Knew?! Knew what?_

"Denam!" I commanded, stilling all three struggling parties. "Tell me what you know of the red lyrium. How did you know any of your kin would survive?"

"The red lyrium is poisonous, much like the Blight. The Elder One knew that some would die, but others — others would survive and become powerful!" He gritted his teeth and ducked his head, his arms shaking in the grips of the soldiers. "This was all I knew. I chose to live! I knew there was no other way! You're a fool to think you would have survived, we were trapped... "

A sob broke from Denam's throat.

But the case had been settled.

"Knight-Captain Denam." I watched him as he pulled insistently against my soldiers. "The Court of the Inquisition finds you guilty of murder, both of the Knight-Vigilant and of your brethren-in-arms." Denam screamed as he tried to launch out of his jailors' hands, shaking his head as he was held back.

"No!" Denam howled. "You can't! Not after I survived this long! Don't you see?"

"Knight-Captain Denam is to be jailed until tomorrow, there he will be taken to the gallows." I replied, glancing between the soldiers. My heart was thundering in my chest. "The Inquisition will see him hung by the neck until dead, tomorrow at dawn." The soldiers nodded and yanked at Denam, dragging him back down the path toward the entrance. The Templars at the end of the Hall parted like the Red Sea, their faces turned away in shame.

I watched as the man was dragged away and I wondered at what I had just committed. Much like Cole, I was working on what I believed, rather than any form of professional training or experience. _I need to be careful. I need to make sure I am always the middle line._ My gaze caught the shifting Templars. _I'm going to need to figure out what to do with them. Denam hadn't been in command, but he was their last superior aside from the veterans._

I turned to Barris, my voice a sigh. "Knight Templar Barris, the Inquisition is appreciative of your participation and acknowledges your willingness to take responsibility. This court judges you guiltless."

"Thank you, Inquisition." Barris bowed his head, his eyes shut tightly.

"As previously agreed, the Templar Order is in an alliance with the Inquisition. You are free to stay amongst the ranks until you deem the Order fit to depart." Commander Cullen interjected, his voice firm despite the exhaustion I could see around his mouth and eyes.

"Understood. We shall remain until further notice." Barris acknowledge as he raised his head. My eyes found Josephine, I waved my right hand gently, my request silent: _let's end this, please._

"The Court of the Inquisition has ended." Josephine's voice rang clear through the Hall. "These matters are settled. The Inquisitor will now retire."

 _Thank the fucking Maker._


	40. ACT II: Sweet Nightmares

**ACT II:** _Sweet Nightmares_

* * *

 **Note:** _I am so excited for you guys to see this._

* * *

Josephine's office was an unsanctioned showdown room. I had retreated into the office the _moment_ I had been dismissed from my duties at court and the others came hot on my heels. Cullen stormed in after me, somehow beating out Josephine from getting in first, Leliana followed them in not long after. _She probably started making a mad dash to the office when the trial was winding down._

"Inquisitor —" Cullen started in on me. My Marked left hand rose to meet his face with a foot of space between us, my fingers held like a salute.

"Oh, no, no, no." I interrupted, my index finger wagging. "We are not doing this without alcohol. I am all for letting you say your piece, Cullen, but I am _not_ doing it _sober_." Leliana had already been making her way over to Josephine's shelves and had reached the brandy bottle as I spoke.

Josephine's feathers ruffled. "Commander, surely we all here can agree that this was a marvelous display. Better than we expected, even!" _I am not sure how_ that _was meant, but I am not going to drag more fuel to the raging bonfire that is Cullen._ The Commander twisted his lips tightly and a hand ran through his curls, fraying them all along the way.

"We can agree on that much," Cullen eyed the glass of brandy being brought over to me by Leliana. "But what disturbed me is the _manner_ in which we arrived to our conclusion."

"I daresay it went exactly as I predicted." Leliana chirruped next to me, a side glance tossed my way as I took a hard swing from the glass. Her eyes shifted to Cullen. "I did warn you that she wasn't going to just take our word for it."

"A little trust would have been appreciated." Cullen heatedly shot back. I swallowed hard, wagging my index at him again, the glass held precariously in my hand as I did so.

"Look here," I croaked, my throat burnt by the drink, "I _trust_ you, implicitly, irresponsibly almost. But I am not willing to chuck a man to death on the word of a man who has a personal _stake_ in the matter."

"My loyalties lie with the Inquisition!" Cullen hissed at me, rounding his anger my way. Josephine leaned out of the way of the blast. I could see Cassandra come in through the door behind her and the look of Immediate Death came upon her face.

"I'm not saying they _don't_ , Cullen." I withheld using his title, I didn't want to metaphorically spit in the man's face, after all. "But you've gotta see it from the court's point of view, _no one_ knows he's guilty until we prove it so — we can't just tell them he is! Do you know what kind of madness that would start?"

"I agree." Cassandra sailed in like a wraith, wedging herself between Josephine and the Commander. With the opportunity presented, I took another drink of the brandy. I was extremely grateful to Leliana for having nearly topped off the glass rather than leaving a dredge of it at the bottom.

"We had the Knight-Vigilant's body!" Cullen snapped back with a hard look to Cassandra. "What other proof did we need?"

"That means shit all to me." I answered after the second swallow. "So what? Excluding the nobles and children, every fucking person in that courtroom is capable of killing a man." Josephine was quick to hide a laugh behind her hand and fluttered her fingers away when Leliana glanced at her.

"The Inquisitor was making sure that our nobility understood the evidence." Leliana attempted to appease him, her hands behind her back. "And I agree with her — you have no connection to the Templars any more, but to suddenly come in demanding retribution?"

"Conflict of interest." I muttered around the lip of the glass. "If I just took you at your word, people would think the Templars were just a plaything, not an ally." Cullen's jaw gripped his teeth tightly for a long second before he exhaled roughly and shook his head. After my third hearty sip, I handed the glass out to my Commander.

He took it with a sour look and downed the rest of it.

"We're in this together, Cullen." I reached out and patted his shoulder, letting my hand rest there. "But I got to make sure I cover our asses as well."

"Months ago you wouldn't have been such a thorn in our side." Cullen muttered, wiping his palm down his mouth politely. At my curious eyebrow raise, he continued: "I remember when you used to just… cower at the sight of us."

"Well, yeah." I laughed. "And then I got to know you assholes."

"Being in one's comfort zone does induce bravery." Leliana added, a small smirk on her face. She focused on Cassandra as I took the glass from Cullen. "The nobility?"

"Pleased." Cassandra answered, gruff but not upset. "Pacified. I have no doubt Ferelden and Orlais will receive the news within the hour, and by tomorrow, more requests to come in." I had wandered away to snatch the brandy bottle from the shelf, bringing it over to Josephine's desk as I served myself another glass. Only half full this time, to be safe.

"... I apologize, Inquisitor." Cullen exhaled, slumping in his armor slightly. "I — lost my temper. I wanted to see justice terribly, and forgot myself."

"I know, Cullen." I walked over, the glass cradled in both my hands. "You scared the shit outta me, comin' at me like that."

"It was worrisome, yes." Cassandra intoned, eying Cullen darkly. "I was certain Blackwall would have gutted you on the spot." The Warden had taken up a spot behind the throne and the implication had not been lost on me. Blackwall's loyalty to the Inquisition was a hard maybe, but loyal to _me_? Absolutely. I would need to be extremely careful with that knowledge.

"I will apologize for that, too." Cullen reached for my drink and I handed it over without a fuss. "It was insubordination, and unacceptable."

"But you handled it stunningly." Josephine popped up, pleased, her hands clapped together. "Oh, and it was a sight. If no one believed you could hold the mantle of Inquisitor, there will be no doubts now." The flush of my cheeks could be blamed on the brandy. Avoidantly, I shot my gaze to Leliana.

"So we're in the clear now, right? Trials are over, people are settled, we can get back out into the world, yes?" I hijacked the conversation.

"Yes. The world has not stopped to wait for us. We still have the Empress' assassination to concern ourselves with, as well as several other issues that have now appeared in the Hinterlands." Leliana ticked off with a bounce of her chin after each one. My mood soured considerably, but I wasn't one to deny the excitement of getting back out into the world.

 _God. How times have changed._

"Alright, so let's hold off on Empress Celene." I waved a hand lightly. "Her thing isn't for another three months, so pin it. Do we even have an invitation?"

"I am doing what I can to acquire one." Josephine told our huddle. She placed her hands before her stomach and sighed. "Unfortunately, up until now, we hadn't the clout to ask, but after this we might."

"Check." I nodded. With a short glance, I bounced between Leliana, Cassandra, and Cullen. "What's happening in the Hinterlands? I thought we had that place locked down?"

"We do." Cullen answered and rubbed at his chin. "But… this _problem_ is a bit bigger." Hot suspicion dripped down my lungs, stuttering my breath. I narrowed my eyes at him and waited. He clicked his teeth, "We've disturbed a dragon's nest. She's quite upset with us, and is now terrorizing the land."

"We fucking did what." I deadpanned. _For a moment, I almost forgot about those fucking things._ "I — what. No."

"Yes, unfortunately." Cassandra stopped my floundering. "We had received word of its existence about a week ago and have been attempting to formulate a way to deal with her." Cullen exhaled roughly, running both his hands down the back of his neck with a shake of his head.

"I take it that means we have no ideas?" I asked the dead air.

"Essentially." Leliana answered cheerily. "We've attempted to lure her away, but her eggs have hatched, so she will not leave them. We cannot get close enough to capture her clutch without losing soldiers by the tenfold, and she's in a defensible quarry."

"She has the upperhand on us." Cassandra nodded her head with a quick look at Leliana. Her gaze moved to settle on me. "... forgive me, I had not yet learned how to hunt dragons effectively before…"

"Ah, don't worry about it, Cass." My hand shot up to stop her with a shake of my head. "We'll… figure something out. Okay. Empress. Hinterlands. Dragon. Anything else?" At this, my companions fell silent and my meter of suspicion shot up with all the strength of a rocket ship.

With hands on my hips, I said, "Spit it out."

"Jaime." Leliana started. I knew I was in fucking trouble the minute my name left her mouth. My arms dropped against my sides and I nearly flinched away from her at the tone. She wasn't angry, but the use of my name was never a good sign. She didn't quite smile, but her hand came to my elbow, keeping me in place.

"We've… discussed something that we believe could help you." Leliana glanced between the others, but no one contested her. "We've searched for trainers that would be assisting with your improvement."

"What?" I frowned, shooting a look toward Cullen and Cassandra. "Is… the training with the soldiers not enough?"

"Not for what we're asking you to do, no." Cullen murmured gently, shame lacing his voice. He took over from Leliana, drawing in my attention to him. "Jaime, we've asked you to do quite a bit — each trial more fantastical than the last — but we've realized that now…"

"We've placed you in the path of a would-be God." Cassandra jutted in like a stab, her brow hard over her narrowed eyes. "A maul, even enchanted, can only do so much. We've found trainers that are specialists in their fields, masters of discipline that many have forgotten."

"What… are you suggesting?" I asked, terrified of the answer. _Are they talking about magic? What more could you do to train the body? It's not like drinking lyrium is suddenly going to make me a mage._ Josephine stepped away from our huddle and moved to her desk, pulling open a drawer and searching through it.

"Josephine will have the documents, there are three masters we have found that have been vetted for you." Leliana shifted on her heel and allowed Josephine to come in closer after finding her parchment scrolls. They were handed to me, bundled together with a long bowed piece of twine.

"I would suggest you considered the options, Jaime." Cassandra said solemnly. "We here can no longer protect you. You need to recognize that. The enemies we have are far beyond the realm of mortals."

"The decision does not need to be immediate." Josephine soothed, bringing her hand up to take Leliana's off my elbow, but I had long lost focus on the point of contact. My mind was racing with the possibilities and terrors of what they were asking me to do. This is how we turned into a villain, by reaching for more power. Wasn't it bad enough that the Mark was already out of my control?

 _Ignoring the fact that I haven't actually_ used _the damn thing since escaping Haven._

I swallowed and the scrolls bounced in my hands. "I'll… take a look at this. Are they already here?"

"No," Josephine shook her head, "We are planning to summon them once you've decided. After everything that has happened today, perhaps it's best you sleep on it."

"Good fucking idea." I answered, scooping the scrolls against my side and using my Marked hand to rub my face. _I didn't drink enough to deal with this. Wonderful._ Going back to the tent at least gave me the opportunity to hit the tavern for a hearty drink.

"Speaking of which," Josephine bounced on her heels lightly, "your room was finally finished!"

I blinked, hard. "My — what?"

"Your room?" Josephine stuttered, surprised. "Did you — did you believe we would not have one prepared for you? In your own _fort?_ "

"... yes." I answered honestly. "I figured I was just tenting up with the soldiers or something, like. Out at the back of the fort?" Josephine reached up with a reverence dug deep from her soul and held her fingers tight to the bridge of her nose. No doubt she was calling for patience. Cullen could be heard snickering behind me with a heavy sigh from Cassandra.

"Guys, is that really so unbelievable?" I snapped at them, reaching over to smack at Cullen's breastplate with a light tap from the back of my hand. "Stop laughing, drunkard."

"I had half a glass!" Cullen defended with a laugh. "Unbelievable. Yes, the room was completed. The last of the furniture has been moved in. Inspect it, if you like."

Leliana smirked. "One day people will actually listen to me when I predict these things."

"Did you predict I wasn't expecting a room?" I asked Leliana waspishly, fighting my amusement.

"Absolutely. I even suspect that you would have countered that the room could be used for something better, like a healing wing." Her smirk went wider across her face as my ears went red. It made Cullen laugh harder and the flush flooded from my ears down to my chin. The scrolls were crushed against my side with embarrassment.

"I hate you guys." I snipped and moved around to set my somehow empty glass on Josephine's desk, mindful of the other parchments and scrolls she had set out. "Where's this room?"

-0-

So they had lied to me, straight up. It wasn't a _room_ like what one would assume constituted a normal room. It was, in itself, a _house_. Josephine had abandoned me at the entrance of my room and allowed me to travel up the stairs on my own. I had succumbed to a minor heart attack once I reached the top of the flight of stairs and the room blew out before my feet.

The ceilings were vaulted, high and severe over my head, the stonework held up by the exposed beams of wood. The walls dropped down and rested over massive, gaping windows that fed out to a balcony that surrounded the whole thing. The inside was a touch cold with the glass doors of those windows opened wide, the fireplace blazing viciously to keep itself alive.

I walked over to the far corner, it was bordered by four book shelves that were stuffed to bursting with tomes. Shifting around the desk carefully, I found that the tomes were ones I had read before, mixed in with Varric's own works and history books, with smaller journals dotted at the top. There was a small lute to one side and the desk was sized for me with a chair that looked newly polished, with a name carved into the side.

Knees bending with small pops, I inspected the name.

 _Blackwall_.

Goddamnit.

My jaw muscles lit up with fireworks as I clenched my teeth, bringing my right hand to hold my mouth as I stayed there, hunched on my knees. A few hard blinks and deep breaths later, I was calmer and the threat of tears had been waylaid. Clearing my throat, I stood and wandered the rest of the room. A couch against the railing of the stairs had passed my attention, but it also brought my eyes up to see the banners pinned to the wall. The Eye of the Inquisition looked in from the top of each window, glowing with the evening light.

I was too tired to explore the storage area behind the bed and too afraid of stumbling over the railing to inspect the balcony. The bed itself was massive just like the rest of the room, with a handful of pillows wrapped in soft blue cloth. The bedding smelled of lavender when I pressed down into the mattress and the whole thing gave out under me. _Oh, it's too soft. I'm not going to be able to sleep on that._ I tested it, sitting back on it before laying out flat.

The mattress had me scrambling to escape when it slowly began to swallow me. _Yup, nope. Too soft. I got too used to cots and straw-filled beds._ With a sigh, I drew the covers and comforter off the bed and dragged it all over to the fireplace, leaving plenty of space for any embers that escaped. A few pillows followed as well and not long after I had a nest of my own, stone-hard ground or not.

I found the chest of drawers that held clothes for me. Josephine would be to blame for all of it, as it all fit with only a few shortages here and there. In my rummaging, a night gown found my hands and with a soft tug, I pulled it from the depths of the drawer.

It was laced silk and the near liquid nature of it made me shiver. _When was the last time I had something this nice?_ It was almost a crime to use it, but I had nothing better to wear. I set it out on top of the naked mattress and proceeded to walk to each window and bring it shut, latching the handles together to keep the wind at bay. Secured that no one would dive in like a villain, I undressed and slipped into the night gown.

The bitter chill of the room nipped at my skin, but I relished the freedom. With a few twirls, I watched as the lace danced around my knees and settled against my darkened skin. A grin flashed on my face and if I had any type of music available, it would have been one hell of a dancing session. Instead, I hurried to my bedding near the fireplace and huddled into the covers and pillows.

My mind drifted away without a moment's notice, lulled to sleep by the crackle and hiss of the fireplace and the warmth of the blankets and brandy.

-0-

When I next opened my eyes, I was home.

And I mean, _home-_ home. Back to _my_ world. The desert landscape was washed before me, the gentle hiss of cicadas in the Palo Verde trees echoed in my ears with the low set of sunlight off to the west, casting the sky in orange and purples. A lump of coal lodged in my throat and before I knew it, I was stumbling down the sandy, rocky hill toward my backyard. Tall, silent Saguaros threw long shadows along the sand, hiding holes where bugs and lizards rested, the distant rattle of a dried bush drifted through my ears.

The cinder block wall that bordered my home rose before me, guarding my yard from intruders. Without stopping, one foot rose to snag the wall and lift my weight up, my hands automatically reaching out to catch the top of the wall with practiced ease and I hauled my body over. The backyard looked the same as always, littered with broken car pieces from Jake's projects, dried paint buckets and tarps on the other far end from Caleb's artwork.

The sight of my brothers' presence in the yard, though normal for where I was, hit me like a freight train. My body slipped from the top of the wall and hit the dirt with a thud, but I rolled with my weight and my back hit something solid enough to stop me. My hips dropped to hit the ground and I turned my head to look up. Whatever this was, the atmosphere was shattered by the sight before me.

"Solas?" My voice cracked on his name. The elf blinked down at me, just as surprised as I was, his eyes blown wide with thirsty curiosity and hungry for answers.

"Jaime." He breathed, reaching a hand out for me to take and when I did, he pulled me up to my feet. He waited until I cleared away most of the sandy dust from my clothes. "I am to deduce you would happen to know where we are?"

"Home," I answered heartbrokenly, my words caught in my throat. "What — how are you _here_?"

Solas' expression cracked with pain. "... this is the Fade, my friend. You… I am not sure how you managed it, but you dreamed and brought part of your world into the Fade."

"What?" I asked sharply. "How the fuck — there's no Fade in my world."

"No, that is true." Solas countered, raising a single finger. "But _you_ exist in a world that does have the Fade. Remember what you've been taught."

I pondered, rubbing at my neck. "The Fade… is memories of its occupants. Spirits can manipulate their areas of influence."

" _Yes_ ," Solas followed up vehemently, amazement bright across his face. "Look at what you've brought here, Jaime. Your thoughts, your memories, your essence brought you _home_." He watched me as I glanced around the yard, broken beyond pieces that all that I saw wasn't real. My feet took me away from him, my house stood silent and lifeless, no lights bloomed from the inside even as the night crawled across the sky.

"Why here?" I asked, suddenly tired from holding my heart together.

"Your home is familiar. It will always be important to you." Solas came to my side, tilting his face to inspect mine before he turned toward the house, his voice quiet. "Lead me inside? Is this a childhood home or a recent one?"

"Recent." I sighed. We cut through my backyard to the sliding door that led into the house. Without a thought and on pure routine instinct, I tapped my toes to clear off the sand and stepped inside. Solas watched, extremely curious, and slipped in beside me, shoeless. His eyes scanned the interior of my home, mapping out the layout and pinging curiosities he couldn't identify.

We had entered into the open kitchen, the countertops out to our left, winding along the corner to house the sink, oven, and fridge. It bled into a small dining area, with a four-legged oak table and a mismatch of wooden chairs that to the trained eye were definitely from different sets. The living room was held off by a half-wall, but open as well, and where one hall broke to the left to the master room, another broke to the right for the two other rooms.

"Your brothers lived with you?" He asked with a tentative step onto the linoleum floor. A smile touched my face at the dainty step he managed, unsure if he was about to slip.

"No. This belonged to my parents, but when they retired, they moved out and left the home to us." I kicked off my shoes, pausing briefly when I realized they were sneakers rather than the boots I had become familiar with over the last few months. The pang of pain went ignored within the depths of my chest.

Solas looked up, spying the ceiling fan and watched it twirl. "You visited the home often, then?"

"I lived here off and on as I worked and finished my education." I answered, moving toward the kitchen and running my hands over the polished desert stone. "Our summers were becoming hotter than normal, but the winters were manageable." I tested the sink and got the pleasure of watching Solas jump at the sudden rush of water and the splatter into the sink. He peered around me, focused, and then just as fast disappeared to discover more.

"Which room was yours?" He asked, standing between the kitchen and living room. The couches were old and beaten, with a collection of pillows taken from other homes or thrift shops. No television was in the home, just the rows and rows of shelves with numerous books of all types that cluttered the walls.

"Down the right, first door to the left." I took him down the carpeted hallway and stopped when I realized he wasn't beside me. I laughed when I spotted him down on his haunches, testing the somewhat shaggy carpet between his fingers.

"What strange material. This is not animal fur." He tugged on it, a few strands came loose in his fingers and he stood, brow pinched in concentration as he studied the material.

"Well, I don't know if this is acrylic or nylon, but it's not wool, that's for sure." I slipped my hands into my pockets, sighing at the feel of the denim material. "Man-made wool, I guess. Feels the same, but it lasts longer and is a fraction of the cost of shearing animals for their hair."

"Fascinating." He brushed his palms together and stepped onto it, taking a moment to test his toes in it before nodding and coming toward me. A chuckle escaped me and I shook my head, waving him into my old bedroom.

The walls were copper color, from top to bottom. A ceiling fan swung lightly from the center, the graying blades whistling as they cut through the air. Hundreds of photos, both framed and not, dotted my walls. Friends and family, motorcycles and projects, graphic concepts, artwork, drawings. Each one more painful than the last. I closed my eyes for a second and fought back the hot swell; instead, I focused on Solas.

His gaze was glued to my workbench. A smile stretched across my face as he ran his fingers over my small models, my tablet and lamp, the computer screen, and the keyboard. None of it turned on, and I don't know how much I would have handled introducing him to _that_ technology, but —

"Is this the ' _lap top'_?" He turned to me, ears twitching.

I did laugh this time and moved toward the workbench, "Yeah, kinda. See here. This part is the docking station. Kinda like a berth for a ship. You disconnect here, and I can walk around with it, or place it in my lap." I reached across him and pulled the laptop out from under the main computer screen and removed it. With it in my hands, I settled onto my bed and flipped it open, but there was no power source. The screen remained dark, our faces reflected on the surface.

He sat with me, his gaze flowing over my room and decorations. Half of them I couldn't remember anymore, the other half hazes in my mind. The photos were too much to look over, so many faces that I had forgotten. My fingers traced the lines of the monitor before letting it fall shut. Solas' eyes came back to me, his expression patient.

"I can't remember their voices anymore." I said into the empty silence, my voice quiet. "I can barely remember their faces. I remember… such weird things about them."

"What do you remember?" Solas asked, his voice low to match mine.

"I can remember what it felt like, when my dad — my father, would hug me." I held onto the laptop with limb hands, unsure of where to place them. "I can remember his arms felt like steel — iron. I can remember my mother's fingertips…" Tears welled up at the corners of my eyes and I reached up to wipe them away.

"I can remember Jake's smell." I stuttered, my nose stuffed with emotion. "The oil from his machines, but not him. I can remember Caleb's paints and how his hands felt, but nothing else. It's so weird. Why can I remember the _house_ but not them?"

Solas folded his hands together. "... I could not tell you why. The mind is a creation beyond our understanding. I have known spirits who can recall their dying breath, but not their name." We sat in silence again, the whine of the ceiling fan a strange comfort just above our heads. I rose from the bed after a minute and set the laptop away.

"Solas." I stared at my desk, my hands fiddling with old works and paper. "What happened in that jail? I don't know anything before waking up." My mind had shuttered to a full stop. Wayward thoughts and running commentary at my state of life had grinded to a halt. The overwhelming sickness of being home and having it all be just a memory was smothering me.

"I was asked to see to your health, when you first arrived. It was a day or so after the blast that they had found you in the rubble." Solas remained on the bed, his hands still folded together with his gaze to my back. "I sat beside you while you slept, studying the Anchor."

"I'm glad someone was watching over me." I replied listlessly. The workbench lost my attention as a photo dipped loose from its tape holding. I reached up to straighten it, the snout of a dog's nose the main focus.

Solas shrugged behind me, "You were a mystery. You _still_ are." The bed creaked softly when his weight disappeared and I found him leaving to inspect the furthest wall of my bedroom. The photos were pinned one on top of another, splatterings of memories and references that I used for my work, my life before. He tugged at one, an unknown woman who stood on a bench with her arms over her head, a silent cheer into the ether.

"I ran every test I could imagine, searched the Fade, yet found nothing." He replaced it using the piece of tape still stuck to it. "Cassandra suspected duplicity. She threatened to have me executed as an apostate if I didn't produce results." A snort left me and I walked over to him, searching the wall myself for anything familiar.

"Because _of course_ she did." I chuckled, reaching up high for a photo. "She's come a long way, I'd say."

"That she has." Solas shared my chuckle, watching me. He shook his head, his attention returned to the other pictures, leaning into a few to inspect them and their high definition quality. "You were never going to wake up. How could you, a mortal sent _physically_ through the Fade?" The photo I wanted came down into my hands, nearly slipping through my fingers. It was of myself and my brothers, pressed together for the picture, sunglasses on our faces.

 _We shared the same eyes. All three of us._

"I was frustrated, frightened." Solas murmured, spying over my shoulder, his voice against my skin. "The spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the Breach." He sighed and reached for the photo and stared at it deeply as if willing the subjects within to animate.

"Although I wished to help, I had no faith in Cassandra… or she in me. I was ready to flee." He ran a thumb over our faces, head tilted in surprise at the texture of the photo and then passed it back to me. I held onto it, my fingers trembling. I had never imagined a world without Solas, but to know I had been so very close to existing without his help choked me.

"But you stayed." I said breathlessly.

"I did." Solas said. He tilted his head the other way and raised a beckoning index finger to have me follow him. I did so without question and we stepped toward the window of my bedroom that overlooked the landscape, unobscured by anything other than nature herself. A flash of green and gray overtook the darkening sky and then a roll of thunder followed. I rushed to the window, the photo floating forgotten to the floor.

 _The Breach!_ It quaked in the yawning evening sky, rolling with turbulent clouds and thunder groaning as the lightning flashed between it all. Solas leaned into the windowsill with me, eyeing the sky beyond us.

"I told myself: one more attempt to seal the rifts." He raised the window open, the once dry, warm desert air had turned dank with the smell of rain and the threat of a storm. "I tried and failed. No ordinary magic would affect them." He folded his arms over the sill and stared out as if he had done it a thousand times before. My gaze refused to leave his profile, wondering at the magnitude of his story.

 _I was almost alone._

 _I would have had to do it all by myself._

"I watched the rifts expand and grow, resigned myself to flee, and then…" _You,_ his gaze said to me, turning to catch mine and the chill of the rain still so far off caught me in my throat, bolting me to my place.

"It seems you hold the key to our salvation. At the cost of your own soul being cast into the depths of damnation." He stood straight and leaned against the wall, waiting until I stood away from the window, half a smirk on his face. "You had sealed it with a gesture… and right then, I felt the whole world change."

"I'm glad you decided to stay." The words were thick against my tongue, fear and nausea swirled in my stomach and yanked at my lungs to try and overthrow them. I only had as much knowledge on the Fade and the Mark as I did, only understood it for what it was, and the danger it could have been, would have been, _will be_ because he was there to teach me.

"As am I." He smiled at me, arms crossed against his chest. "You have fractured rules of man and nature, and you will shatter more before you are done." He shook his head and brought his hands up, reaching out to hold my face as he had once done in my healing tent all those weeks ago. His palms were cold against my face, his fingers over the valleys of my ears.

"Visiting me here, without magic or any connection to the Fade… it should not have been so easy for you." He murmured, holding my face like porcelain.

"What do you mean?" I asked quietly.

"How do you think you got here?" He asked just as quietly, a mischievous tilt to his words. I frowned and looked around us as best I could with my face in his hands. Slowly, the walls of my room began to fade away, the photos falling from their place and fluttering around us.

"This isn't real." I murmured, glancing back at him. He chuckled, patting his palms against my cheeks.

"That's a matter of debate… probably best discussed after you _wake up_."


	41. ACT II: The Stirrings in the Mist

**ACT II:** _The Stirrings in the Mist_

* * *

 **Note:** _For whatever you celebrate (or don't!) have a happy surprise gift from me!_

* * *

My body jolted awake and shuddered against the blankets I was caught up in. My heart raced at a rabbit's pace behind my ribs. I ripped up from the blankets, a frantic look around told me I was back in Skyhold, back in the nest I had made in front of the fire. The light outside the windows was young, coming from a sunrise rather than the sunset I had fallen asleep to. It was a moment more before I scrambled out of my blankets in search of water.

 _What the hell was that?_

There was a pitcher of it that sat near my bed. I retrieved a cup and took a few hearty swallows. The cup sat back on the nightstand and I stood there with my hands braced on the edge of the stand. The rush of my breathing whipped in my ears and a shudder shook my neck as sweat dripped down from my hairline. It took a few more minutes before the shaking stopped and my heart slowed to a normal pace.

 _What in God's name…_ I shot an accusatory glance at my left hand. _Could it be the Mark? Is it strong enough now to connect me to the Fade? I need to think._ I wasn't about to go running to Solas in this state since there was far too high of a chance that I would babble like a moron. _Wait it out. List it all up first._ I would need to start my day in a different way.

The trouble with the room I was in now, so high in the tower was that there was no easy means to get a bath set up. Nothing warm, at least. There was enough water in a barrel in the storage space for me to rinse down with a cloth and dress so I was mildly presentable. Step one; complete. This would likely be my last few days in Skyhold before I went back out into the world to deal with the problems at large.

 _Like dancing with a fucking dragon._

Dressed in my normal garb of tunic and pants, the coat was left over the dresser and I set about fixing the bed (just in case a servant came in and found my nest). Finished with covering up my more animalistic tendencies, I moved toward my desk and took a seat in the chair Blackwall had carved for me. It was sturdy and though it lacked the ability to lean back, it was functional. The scrolls Josephine had given me were still nestled at the center of the desk, waiting for my curiosity to read through them.

 _I might as well._

There was a small note from our Quartermaster, Ser Morris, and it seemed he had been the one to put forth the idea that my training needed to go beyond whatever the Inquisition could currently offer. It brought a smile to my face to think that someone else was keeping an eye out for us. I opened one after the other, reading over the description for the services and training they would give me.

The first was an Orlesian noble by the name of Chancer de Lion. A long line of leadership and military experience followed the man. Known extensively throughout Orlais as a stark defender and reliable champion of the people. I twisted my mouth in thought, _not a bad start. Defense is good. Learning to use a shield would be nice, but could I handle a sword?_

He would be useful if we kept him around to train a lot of the civilians on how to defend their new home. It would keep them out of most of the fighting (hopefully) and leave the soldiers with more attention to spare when it came to the actual battlefield. _Could I convince him to stay around and train others?_

That was a hard maybe.

The second was extremely interesting. The only signed name was _Ser_ , and there was an added note to clearly state that he Was Not Affiliated with the Templar Order. _Noted, ser._ The rest of it was self-explanatory and I would be a liar if I couldn't admit that the idea of learning what the Templars _did_ wasn't intriguing. The only part of it that worried me greatly was the use of lyrium. _Cullen and Barris have made mentioned that the stuff can be addictive. Even Josephine mentioned some of the Templars going feral without it._

It posed a unique problem. Knowing what the Templars did and how they used it against the Fade and demons was a boon to be sure, but what would happen _after_ when it was all said and done? _Would that mean I would have to file in rank with the Templars?_ Half my forces were already Templars, so if we needed to train anyone else, they were available to do so. _Not like they wouldn't want to bolster their forces after such a devastating lost with the Envy demon._

Hmm. That was going to be a no, then. I didn't want or need what I already had, and Cullen had told me stories of his years with the Order. It took an immense amount of training and dedication, and my attentions were already devoted elsewhere. I set the scroll aside and moved to the shortest one of the three.

The last one made me laugh. _Breaker Thram. Holy shit._ Her specialization didn't have much in the way of a description. All she had written down to offer her services was: _You wish to inspire? Inspire terror._ I knew better than to be led down the rabbit hole of power, because that's how someone ended up on the wrong side of a superhero movie. _Wanting to do good with the power you have, only to turn into the villain you tried to defeat._ The simplistic, minimalistic nature of her offer intrigued me, though.

 _I'm always a sucker for getting to the point._

I would have to ask Josephine to bring in Breaker Thram. Decided, I left my desk and collected the scrolls under my arm before heading back down and out to Josephine's office. The fort was quiet and it was only then that I realized how early in the morning I was skulking around. Surprised, I scurried over to Josephine's desk and left the scrolls on top of her books. After a moment, I pulled up her quill and left a note on the parchment to request Thram be invited to Skyhold.

Out into the main hall I wandered. It was quiet and had an odd thrum like an empty church. Braziers cracked with low flames and shadows danced along the stone walls as I walked past them. The fireplace at the far end of the hall by the entrance was also low, but as I spied over the table, I could see a few parchment rolls of Varric's handwriting. The dwarf was nowhere to be found.

With a turn, I snuck through the rotunda. Solas was also absent, perhaps too early for him as well. _Come back to talk to him about that dream, for sure._ It gave me an excuse to slip away up the stairs and higher into the tower. The mages that had been up here with Dorian were absent, the windows glinting with the low morning light. The fluttering of bird wings and impatient caws brought my attention upward. I scaled the stairs in their wide circle to make it all the way to the top of the tower.

Leliana stood by the open door that led out to her balcony. Cullen just beside her.

"I am sorry." Leliana spoke gently.

Cullen shook his head and left her side, "So am I."

I was stuck, there was nowhere in the landing to hide that he would not see me as he walked past. The Commander said nothing to me as he made his way out. My head ducked quietly and I watched as his feet shuffled past mine, hitting the stairs with a soft clank from his boots. There was a pause and my gaze came up to Leliana, my Spymaster's careful eyes focused on me, but mine spied something silver in her grasp.

She lifted it, a cylinder of silver. "The names of those we've lost. You must blame me for this." A sharp sting popped my lungs and I exhaled, tight in my shoulders as I walked up to her table. She left the cylinder on the table closest to me.

"We all saw who attacked us." I answered quietly. "We know _exactly_ who to blame." A silence fogged up between us, her eyes strayed to my hand from the cylinder and back. She shook her head and pushed away from the table, her gaze turning to the windows where the sunlight was weakest.

"I keep wondering if I could've done something different." Leliana murmured against the glass, the fog of her breath appearing for a few seconds. "When the first of my lookouts went missing, I pulled the rest back, awaiting more information." A reactive plan, a limb jerking away at pain to avoid any more that would come. I couldn't and wouldn't blame her for that. _She saved them from being captured._

"If they'd stayed in the field, they could've brought us more time." She exhaled with her lips pressed tight together. She scoffed, pained and mournful, "I was afraid to lose my agents, and instead we lost Haven."

"We would have lost Haven anyway, it was a chapel, not a fortress." I interjected. I walked toward the end of the table where the windows overlooked the parchments and scrolls she gathered up against the wall. "You saved your men. We would have lost them to the horde, to the snow. To the _dragon_."

"You don't know that." Leliana countered darkly, a sharp glance at me over her shoulder with half her face hidden by her hood. "Their lives could've bought Haven a small chance."

"We would have _died_ in that grave." I shot back fiercely, keeping my voice low to avoid the echo of the tower. "Nothing — no warning, no planning, _nothing_ would have saved us from a dragon. We were in a home made for pilgrims, not armies."

Leliana shook her head hard. "My people know their duty. They know the risks. They understand that the Inquisition may call upon them to give their lives."

"Our people aren't tools to be used and discarded." I resisted the urge to smack my knuckles against the table. I understood her, I truly did, because I had to wade my way through those same thoughts nearly every day. _But I can't have my Spymaster second-guessing her tactics!_

"Leliana." Her name drew her attention to me and I held her gaze with mine. "Your instincts were _right_. Their lives _matter_."

She was just as quick to bite. "Can we afford sentimentality? What if Corypheus —"

"We're better than Corypheus!" I snapped, my voice warbling as I controlled my volume. "You start using bodies to hold up a bridge without offering them support, you're going to see the whole thing fall to pieces because _no one_ likes being sacrificed." My Spymaster turned to face me fully, her eyes wide for a second before the same soft smirk fell upon her lips.

"You've become so commanding as of late." There was a laugh in her tone somewhere, I could almost hear it. She smiled, her arms folded behind her back. "I understand, Inquisitor. I apologize for my weakness."

"It's not weakness to care, Leliana." I sighed, rapping my knuckles against the table. "But I forgive you for being a sap." I smiled as a true laugh escaped her, and never before had I felt so elated at the sound of someone's laughter. It warmed me much like the sun's rays and she took the moment for herself, relieved. She settled back into her normal, quiet self after a moment or two, but her eyes were brighter for it.

"I very much doubt you came up here to cheer me up." She murmured peacefully. "How may I be of service?"

"Okay, so." I laughed. "First off, I need you to check through the roster for a Mira that came to us from Orlais. She's got a look to her that I think you'll put to good use."

Leliana smirked, "Understood. I could always add another to the flock. Anything else?"

"Speaking of birds." I gave an amused huff. I took a seat at her table while she remained standing across from me, poised and graceful. "Hawke. How much do you know?"

"For once, not much." She admitted lightly. "He was here for only a few days. I suspect Cassandra has gotten wind of it, as a few of our soldiers recognized him before he left."

"So that's probably why I haven't found Varric anywhere, huh?" I joked. Leliana offered me a small shrug, but laughter tugged at the corner of her mouth and eyes. "Right. Well. He might have a few leads for us. Bethany is still alive, from the sounds of it. And another Warden has entered our mists."

"Oh?" She piqued her curiosity enough for me to see it cross her lips. "Do tell."

"Warden Stroud. He didn't disappear with the rest of the Wardens, they're hunting _him_. He disagrees with something they've done." My knuckles tapped against the tabletop again, a muted rhythm within the wood. "Hawke also has him looking into the sources and symptoms of red lyrium."

She frowned. "Is he? Interesting. I know Hawke and Varric had become very disturbed by its effects within its victims. I had wondered if there was a link between the idol they had found in the Deep Roads and the red lyrium we recently found in the Temple."

"Yeah, same." My hands rose to rub at my cheeks. "I didn't think of that, but I remember it from the story. What's to stop it from being an external force as much as an internal one?"

"Nothing that we know of." Leliana muttered. "I shall send word that any red lyrium found must be quarantined until further notice. We must find some way to dispose of it."

"Check." I listed it off with a flick of my index finger. "Which leads to the next point; Hawke has agreed to let me meet his Warden and talk to him. I'm hoping I can find out what happened to the rest of them."

Leliana nodded. "Good. If we know where they are, then even if they do not side with us, we can make sure they don't side _against_ us. Just you alone, or was the agreement for a party?"

"I didn't ask, but I'm not going alone." I answered with a sigh. I leaned into my hands. "Varric is a must, because of Hawke. Blackwall, for sure. He may be able to help us with the Wardens…" I hesitated and I _hated_ that I did because just like a cat with a mouse in her sights, Leliana's eyes narrowed on me.

"Something wrong?" Leliana intoned politely, her mouth small to hide her pleasure at weeding out a secret. "No one else to accompany you?"

"I _hate_ that you phrased it that way." I pointed an accusing finger at her and the smirk across her face widened. "Don't you dare be smug, you witch — you have nothing on me."

"Oh, my darling Inquisitor." Leliana hummed, pleased at having caught me in my idiocy. "You may not always see _me_ , but I am always watching." I glared at her, but the smirk remained on her face and I had the strongest vibes of _Mike Wazowski_ hit me like a truck. I shuddered and clapped my hands once to rid the feeling from my bones. I fought to keep the words from my mouth, but I knew doing so only delayed what she already knew. Or suspected. _Damnit._

"Maybe Bull." I muttered, defeated. "I don't know what we're walking into, so having a Wall is a good idea."

Leliana fought to keep her heels to the ground. "Of course, Inquisitor. Such as it is, he may need our assistance in the near future, so best to collect on favors now."

"What do you mean?" I glanced up with surprise. "Are we about to have issues with the Qunari?" That was the last fucking thing we needed. There had been no hints of an invasion, but perhaps the last incursion with Corypheus over Haven may have tipped their opinion of the Inquisition. _Fuck, I hadn't thought of that. I'm going to have to make some mad dashes to build up a reputation again._

"Not quite. Bull hasn't said anything yet, but the missives we've been getting are hinting at a possible alliance." She struck me with a look of disinterest skepticism.

"You don't think that's the real offer." I caught on, folding my hands on the tabletop. "Are they looking to get in good with us, only to take us over?"

"Hmm." Leliana's mouth twisted, her arms coming forward to cross under her armored bosom. "The possibilities are endless. It could be the precursor to an invasion. It could be they plan to take Bull back, it could be they want more agents to spy on us… on and on it goes."

"So I can't trust it." My right hand brought my fingers up to pinch my brow. "Christ Almighty. That's going to be a mess. And Bull hasn't said anything yet?"

Leliana shrugged. "There has not been anything to confirm or deny, a shadow in the mists for now. I will keep you updated if that should change."

"Please do." I asked with a nod. "I guess… I'll have to have a chat with him first, and see what's going on. _Fuck_ you, you planned this didn't you?" I had only barely caught the sly look of a scheme brushing across her face before the whole expression dropped into a neutral smile.

"Absolutely not." Leliana denied sweetly. "But considering that you're going to be a Reaver, who better to help you with that, than him?"

"How the _fuck_ do you know that?" I asked, visibly alarmed. "I literally just decided that this morning. I left the scrolls on Josephine's desk _today_."

"Jaime." Leliana shook her head, amused at my antics. "I _know_ you. The secrets you keep may be deep, but everything else about you is an unbridled announcement. I —" Suddenly, hesitation took her voice and she eyed my face with a distant gaze. I remained still, waiting, watching as my Spymaster drug herself back from the memory she slipped over.

"Sometimes you are much like her." Leliana continued softly. "Divine Justinia. She was never — happy, per se, and she questioned much of what she did, but when she did something…" She cut herself off with a quick, warbled laugh and a shake of her head. There was a struggle as my mind wrestled with what to say. _Do I ask about her? Would she tell me? Is it a touchy subject?_

It was the first I had heard of Justinia from Leliana, but I recognized the look on her face. Picking up pieces of a broken heart were hard.

"Well. Maybe she imparted some of herself into me when she shoved me through the Fade." I let slip the lame joke and stood from the table. Leliana gave me a reflexive smile and nod.

"Perhaps she did. I am… glad for it. I shall see to your requests, Inquisitor." Leliana straightened and switched back into her Spymaster formality. "Breaker Thram was last heard camping out close to Orlais. She should be here in two or three days time."

"Thank you, Leliana." The sensitive topic tumbled past us, quiet and ghostly. "I'll make one more round for today and then tomorrow morning I'll be making the march to Crestwood."

Leliana nodded. "I'll have the soldiers ready. We might as well make our presence known there as well."

"Aye, aye." I saluted her with two fingers touched to my forehead. She was quiet as I left her, the stairs echoed only with my retreating footsteps.

-0-

The tower remained empty as I left Leliana's area. The birds were impatient to be released and fed; I wasn't terribly tempted to stick around and get nipped at for being in the way. Down the stairs I went, following the stonework under my feet to the rotunda where I could hear the gentle clinks of pots and shuffling of feet. Hurriedly, I dashed down the last of the steps knowing that I would find Solas at the bottom.

"Holy fuck, dude!" I hissed at him, nearly fishtailing from my sliding drift as I ran past his table. He turned to me from his painting work on the wall, brow shot over his face with amusement. He set down his pot of paint and brush, wiping his clean hands on his pants reflexively.

"I wondered when you'd come to find me." He chuckled, shoulders shuddering with laughter. "What a marvelous experience to have with you, my friend. I see now why you needed so long an adjustment period."

"No shit, right?" I laughed, hands hanging from the back of my neck in excitement. "I almost thought for sure I was home… I mean — I don't know what I mean."

Solas softened his smirk to a smile. "I understand. Elated to think you've returned home… heartbroken to find it is only a memory. Real, but long since gone."

"Yeah," I sagged from my shoulders briefly, "I was… I thought I was crazy. That maybe… it was just a dream. I mean, it was a dream — to me — but now it's just a mess. How did you get there?"

"Usually when I take to sleep, I find myself in the Fade. Since I am here," Solas looked up to the ceiling and the surrounding stonework, "Skyhold yields many memories for me to explore. I am quite sure that the old magic residing here is what brought you into the Fade."

I held up my Marked hand. "You think because this changed, it changed my connection to the Fade, too?"

"I believe so." Solas led me to his table. He pushed away works and sketches that littered the surface. A chair was pulled up close and I took it as he walked around toward the other across the table. He tapped the surface of the table and obediently I placed my left arm upon it.

"I know Cole told me that it seems somewhat sentient now." I babbled, twisting my wrist. "It listens, he says. It'll only take what I ask it to take."

"In a sense, he is correct." Solas tugged his sleeves up slightly and held the back of my hand, the Mark facing up toward us. "Before, the Anchor had been a simple tool, pushed to capacity with magical essence in order to rip apart the heavens." His thumb pressed at one corner of my palm near the tear and the Mark's green glow fluttered from the touch.

"And now?" I prompted, my fingers twitching from the sensation.

"Corypheus has empowered you, much to his chagrin, I am sure." Solas placed his palm over mine and he focused his gaze on me. "Jaime, if you may — _pull_." Sparked surprise shot through my muscles and I watched him for a second more, uncertain. Solas was undeterred, his expression firm and patient. My attention dropped to my hand and for a moment more, I stared. _How?_

 _But wait._ I frowned as my fingers flattened. _I had done it before… willingly._ The terror demons both in the Hinterlands and in Fallow Mire had come to blows with the Mark, and had been dispersed because of it, but only the Envy demon had suffered under the crosshairs of being an actual target. My hand was shaking under his palm, but I concentrated, staring at our hands.

 _Pull,_ I commanded, envisioning the tendrils that connected me to the Rifts whenever I closed them. The glow under Solas' palm brightened for a fraction of a second and then a spiraling heat drew into the opening of my palm, a swirling sensation that took the cold right from Solas' skin. Immediately, I yanked my hand back in alarm, nearly toppling myself out of my chair.

"Spectacular." Solas was smirking as he caught my wrist to keep me steady. "Corypheus has refocused the Anchor, given it a purpose without intending to."

"He turned it into a weapon?" I couldn't fathom the destruction I could cause. "Because he connected to the other Anchor _he_ had?"

"Yes." Solas nodded, releasing my wrists and smoothing his palm over mine, his magic cooling the heat in my palm. _A healing spell?_ "Corypheus had made the Anchor a blunt force, to blow open the heavens and return to the Fade by force. The power in the Mark was chaos, and ripped at everything it could reach."

I could vividly remember the ripping sensation I felt when Corypheus had attempted to take the Anchor from my body, holding me as a hanging prisoner with his own weapon of destruction in his other hand. When my limb was released, I drew it back from Solas and rubbed my thumb over the open scar, the glow of the Mark fading gently.

"What is it now?" I asked myself quietly. "In the cave… when the demons showed up I just — I was so _done_ with everything, I thought I could just blow us up with the Mark, but…"

Solas leaned in against the table, intrigued. "But?"

"I saw it." I looked up to him, eyes wide. "I remember — I could see a ripple in the air. Not like a Rift, I could… I don't know if I could tell it was stable, but I thought I could tear it open…"

"And did you?" Solas prodded questioningly. "What happened, Jaime?"

"I reached up and it felt like running my hand through water." I answered without a thought, the memory hazy as my mind desperately fought to keep the trauma at bay. "I could feel the energy and decided, well, fuck it, you know?" Solas watched me, his gaze studious as it roamed over my face and then down to my hand. Thoughts flashed through his eyes, an endless sea of questions that flooded him.

"I do know." He said instead, his gaze unfocused. "I know that feeling, of thinking there isn't any other way. It allowed you to focus on what most others would normally ignore."

"What do you mean?" I asked. His mind had gone somewhere else, something coiled in his past that sprung forth with my explanation. He skipped my true question and latched onto another.

"You know the Veil exists. You also know that it separates the Fade from this reality." Solas ticked off with his fingertips tapping on the table. "What I need you to understand now is that the Fade is, _truly_ , its own reality. It exists. The Veil only exists as a barrier, but it is unnatural."

"Wait, what?" I floundered with a double take catching my voice. "It's unnatur — are you saying that the Fade and this world used to exist _together_?" Solas winced briefly and covered the expression with a thoughtful one, a sigh passing his lips as he stood from his chair.

"That part — pure speculation." He shook his head, moving to collect his sketches and avoiding my curious gaze. "But from my studies, the Veil hadn't always existed. This means to say that your Anchor, with its purpose now reinstated, _is_ your gateway into the Fade. You can command it much the same, to allow what you want in…"

"And what I want, out." I followed along, leaning back in my chair. _The implications… is that why Corypheus wanted it back? But what about the one he has? What was it supposed to do?_ "Solas. Then the second Anchor he had…?"

"A stabilizer." Solas tucked his sketches away into a bag behind his chair. "I deduce that the first attempt to breach the Fade failed because he only had the one, yours, and not the second one to act as a focal point to control the explosion."

"But if he has the second one, could others exist?" I snagged on the line of questions. "Or if he can't find any, could he still use the one in my hand? How much trouble are we looking at here?"

"I do not yet know, my friend." Solas sighed, resting against the back of his chair. "These items were rare and date back to the days of old where the People ruled — _my_ People. How he found them, I am unsure."

My palms pressed together, poisoned fear burning my lungs. "... then I'm just going to have to make sure I'm his only option."

"Jaime?" Solas blinked, startled. "How… do you mean to use yourself as bait?"

"It's easier to face fears than to hide from them." I murmured with my fingers laced together and my forehead pressed against them. "And as long as he comes to me, I know where he's going to go. I won't lose him."

"Ah." Solas deflated, a sour look of sorrow pulling at his mouth. "You mean to use yourself as bait."

"As a trap." I answered, looking back up. "We're going to need to start setting it up now."


	42. ACT II: Wasted Warden Warnings

**ACT II:** _Wasted Warden Warnings_

* * *

 _You know. When Envy fabricated that memory of the Inquisition taking over a city, I didn't think it would be real._

It had taken us two weeks, even with horses and caravans, to get to Crestwood. Most of my personal crew had come with me, leaving Cole, Cassandra and The Hydra behind (Varric was avoiding the Seeker like the plague). Vivienne had taken up with directing the coordination between soldiers and supplies, Solas and Varric disappeared to find Hawke, and Sera stayed to man the bowmen and borders of our camp. Which left a Warden, a Qunari, and Tevinter mage.

 _Bad joke incoming._

From there, it was another day or two to split up people and get scouting parties out and around to secure our entry. A snake's slither of tents was winding down through the main road into Crestwood as we figured out a battle plan. Inquisition forces mingled with the might of The Bull's Chargers, a brute force meant to clear out the worse of what Crestwood had to offer.

"So we have another infestation of dead to deal with, Harding?" I asked with my eyes shut against the rain. My dwarven scout was before me with the rain pattering off the metal of her armor. The Iron Bull stood at my back, not close enough to touch, but nearly close enough to feel his heat. Blackwall was off to my left side, and Dorian stood stiff at my right.

"I'm afraid so, Your Worship, and much worse." She agreed, shifting in the mud. A shiver of quiet laughter came up through me at the sound of a slow _sluuurp!_ as her boot fought the soggy earth beneath it.

"What could be worse than an ill-timed family reunion?" Dorian piped up next to me, sinking a few inches into the mud by my side. I peeked in time to see a grimace flash across his face. Another set of footsteps reached us with Krem popping up next to Dorian and slipping next to Harding.

"A dead one." I quipped and snagged a laugh from him. I grinned into the rain and down at Harding, who resisted the urge to roll her eyes at us. My shoulders straightened and I cleared my throat, nodding with a silent _continue_ on my lips.

"What's worse is that we have bandits _and_ Wardens in the area." Harding added. "Caer Bronach houses at least fifty strong from what we've gathered, and the Wardens are just ghosts coming and going as they please."

"Are the Wardens doing anything to aide Crestwood with those bandits?" I asked, pushing my loose hair back from my face, the rain gluing it to my skin. Bull shifted carefully behind me, doing his best to keep from sinking into the earth. Blackwall accepted his fate readily and merely closed his eyes as his weight dipped briefly.

Krem shook his head, "No. We sent Skinner out with the forward party. She reports they've refused to help and only step in when there's immediate danger."

"... is immediate danger not the infestation of the living dead and bandits?" I asked my audience with confusion. Dorian gave a delicate snort next to me and Blackwall sighed heavily at my left. I turned to my Warden, seeking answers. He sensed my attention and his mouth winced under his beard.

"I don't know what orders they could be following that would have them _actively_ ignore civilians in need. That's not how we're supposed to work." He answered darkly, glaring at me under his heavy brow. "Trust me, I am just as confused as you are, Inquisitor."

My attention snapped to Krem, "Where is Skinner now?"

"She came back at dusk. The forward party is still out scouting." Krem replied, Harding's nod adding to his report. "Do you need her to be sent back out? She'll find the Wardens quick enough."

"No, have her stay home." I shook my head and tapped under my chin with my knuckles in thought, _what's going on? Why aren't the Wardens helping?_ "Krem, have the Chargers geared up and ready for a march."

"Aye, Your Worship." Krem nodded with a salute before he trudged off back toward the camping area for the forces. A silence settled over my group, the rain continued to bounce off our bodies as the rest of them waited for me. _Something is going on, if they're still here, they haven't found Stroud, or Hawke is making it hard to do so._

I glanced off into the distance. Beyond the fog and dense rain stood a fort, waiting in the darkness. _If I can't deal with the lake and the dead coming from it, we're going to need a base here._ My gaze turned toward the hills. _But setting up a base is no good if there's no villagers to protect or merchants to buy supplies._

"Harding." I shifted slightly to face her, my scout perked at her name. "Have another party scout the fort. Give me all the ins and outs. Make sure Krem gets them, set up a battle plan." Harding's eyebrows rose sharply, but a smirk touched her lips as she saluted.

"Aye, Your Worship. We'll have it ready when you come back." Harding glanced off to the side, toward the lake that fenced off the rest of Crestwood. "... what are you going to do about that?" A sigh escaped me as I made my way toward the edge of the cliff, the vicious green glow of a rift hovered over the water, sparking and electrifying the waters around it, gurgling with every spurt of energy.

"Anyone got a working boat?" I grumbled with my hands on my hips.

"Not with anyone willing to row your ass out there." Bull replied, stepping closer to the edge than I dared. He snorted, the steam flowing from his nose in wisps. "We'll have to find another way."

"The Mayor may know something." Blackwall suggested, keeping a healthy distance from the ledge. "We should find him and ask."

"Agreed." I nodded and turned to Dorian. "Alright, dandelion, ready to go?"

Dorian flashed me a winning smile, "Pet names already? My, you do move quick. Lead on, Inquisitor, I will have the immense pleasure of covering your rear."

"Fucking right, you will." I laughed and shouldered my maul into its holster. With a salute to Harding, we three strapped up our boots against the inhaling and grasping mud. A very sour and dower Blackwall followed up on my left, and Bull took a hefty step to come up nearly to my ass, forcing Dorian to my right.

The mage shot Bull a smug smirk over my shoulder and I raised an eyebrow at him; _the hell are you nutballs doing?_ Children, honestly. Well, I suspected that no one was going to be pleased with my decision to bring the newbie, least of all because he was not only a mage, but a _Tevinter_ mage. _Well, y'all are going to have to get along as far as I'm concerned._

"Boss." Bull called from over my head. "Shouldn't we be bringing a bit more of the guys with us?"

"Aye." Blackwall grumbled from my right.

"Uh. No?" I asked, confused. My gaze shot over my shoulder to the Qunari. "It's better if they wait for us at the tents. Varric left with Solas to go find Hawke and Sera stays with the bowmen since Varric is gone." The unsaid ' _did you want Vivienne instead of Dorian with us'_ went cold amongst my group. Bull snorted again, quiet and obedient.

I frowned; _that was weird._

The path wound away from our people and passed the lake's shore nearby. There the water lapped up against the gravel, licking at the broken boats and cracked decking of the small dock. Thunder gave a dull roar overhead, rolling over our heads and shoulders with a passing rumble. The rain came down on us with a steady pattern, keeping us soggy as we trekked up through the East Side Hills.

"What's that?" Dorian pulled up next to me, his staff hidden at his side. Peering through the rain, there were two figures kneeling by the stone fencing of the path, huddle around a third figure. Eyes narrowed and shoulders tense, we wandered closer.

"Wardens." Blackwall warned me quietly. "Their armor gives them away."

"Here for Hawke or his friend, most likely." Dorian murmured in reply. "Shall we distract them?"

"Let's." I answered with a nod. We made our way up toward the group, Bull changing his pace to make his footfalls louder, the rocks crunched together and scraped under his boots as we drew closer. The Wardens' heads shot up at our approach, their hands on their pommels. Dorian drew behind us, careful to keep his staff hidden, Blackwall and Bull remained close to me at the ready if needed.

"Hail there, Wardens." I called through the rain. "Fancy seeing you lot here."

"The same could be said for you, Inquisition." One of them replied, pulling out quick in front of their partner and the third person. Spying around them, it looked to be a young elf, huddled over a knee, holding it tight. _Hurt? Keep it civil until we can get to them. Don't know if these Wardens are enemies yet._

"The Inquisition does its best to answer any calls for help." I kept my voice firm, the rain dripping down against my lips and chin. "Last I heard, the Wardens had disappeared, so imagine our surprise to find them here." Both Wardens hesitated, the young elf behind them had been brought to their feet and shooed away. _Black hair, copper vest, green tunic, green leggings_ , my mind jotted down the information to find the young elf later.

"We're here on official orders." The closest one answered, voice deep against the metal helmet they wore. "A Warden named Stroud is wanted for questioning." The second Warden shot the first one a sharp look, their hooded face pinched tight with concern before they looked back to us.

"Oh?" My innocence answered. "I thought Wardens were accustomed to working independently?"

"In most cases. In others, we do answer to a higher authority." The first Warden answered, helmet tilted toward me. "We heard he'd passed through here, but the villagers knew nothing. They have troubles enough."

"I imagine so." I answered, and then pointed to the shambles of a decapitated zombie behind them. "What with the dead coming back to haunt them." Shame touched their shoulders, dripping them under their cloaks for a brief moment. _That must have been what they saved the elf from, I can see limbs scattered in the grass._

"It is curious," the second one stepped closer, hood heavy under the rain, "that the Inquisition shows up not long after those rumors come through."

"Coincidence." I shot back, lacing my words with boredom. _I'm getting better at this._ "Your rogue Warden may have shown up because he still has some sense of justice for people weaker than he." The jab hit true and they both stepped back, shoulders drawn tight to their spines. _Fuck you, you don't get to insinuate shit without a smack back, asshole._

"Our apologies." The first one bowed their head. "We meant no insult. It's been a desperate search for him. If you would happen to know anything…?"

"What could you tell me about him? I couldn't tell one Warden from the next." I answered readily, deflecting the prod for information.

"Not much." The second shook his head. "Warden-Commander Clarel ordered his capture. We can say no more than that." I shrugged under my oil-slick armor, the water rolling from my leathers and coat with heavy droplets. _You've given me enough._

"I hope Ser Stroud comes with us peacefully." The first Warden murmured pointedly. "I trained under him for a time. He's a good man, I'm sure of that." Remorse colored their words and they shifted under their armor. _Shame, maybe? It's gotta be tough hunting down your mentor._ Vividly, Dorian's presence behind us gave my Mark a sharp stab. _Ah, he_ is _listening._

"I take it that means you won't be staying to fight the undead here?" I replied softly. I felt for them, because turning on someone you respected wasn't easy (my memories with Leliana were harsh reminders of that). _That doesn't excuse you going through a battlezone and not assisting when it's your job to do so._

The second one shook their head again, "No. Our orders forbid it. Crestwood was only a detour."

"Is that all the aid we can offer these people?" The first one turned to their partner. The second was firm and shook their head once, silent. The first one turned their helmet to us, their voice pleading, "If the Inquisition can help, I beg you to do what you can. The villagers have already lost too many."

"Safe travels, Wardens." I said after a pause, stepping out of the path to let them pass. Both of them cast looks over my group as they trailed away, relaxing once they were out of earshot. My group huddled around me, curious gazes focused on the retreating Wardens' backs.

"Good job, Boss." Bull tipped his head, grinning. "We know a bit more now than before."

"Do we?" Blackwall asked, skeptical. "We already knew Stroud was being hunted."

"They want him alive." Dorian answered, leaning close to my right side, arms folded against his chest, skin slick with rain. " _Capture_ is very different from _hunt to kill._ I wonder why."

"Information." My voice echoed with Bull's as we answered. I shot him an amused look and he grinned at me with a shake of his horns. I sighed, "Stroud may have taken something from them, or knows something they don't. They need him alive."

"One Warden is hard to find." Blackwall countered, his hand scratching at his beard. "If the villagers haven't seen him, I can't imagine the tricks he's pulling to cover his tracks."

"We'll find him." I answered, brushing my hair behind my ears. "I have Varric, which means I also have a very useful hawk on loan." Bull chuckled and lightly jabbed my side. Affectionately, I smacked his fingers away with a reflexive swing of my palm, missing as he pulled away, and turned back toward the road.

"Besides," Bull interjected as he followed behind me, "none of those Wardens mentioned a new leader. They may not be a part of Corypheus' plot to seize The Order."

"I don't think so, either." I replied over my shoulder, watching the rocks under my feet. "The infiltration in their ranks may be subtle. We'll need to keep our eyes open." We trudged through the rain, my head hung low against my neck and clavicle with the water pouring down my neck and into my clothes. _No avoiding it. This is almost worse than the Storm Coast._

"There's a home." Blackwall called out. We looked up and found a small cabin home coming up from the ground. Grass and foliage smothered it, the vines gripped the roof and woodwork with tangled fingers and with the rain, it appeared to do its best to level the cabin back into the ground. Careful, I scurried up toward the door and knocked. My armor shook as I spooked when the door flew open immediately.

"Inquisition!" It was the elf, bright eyed and dripping wet despite being inside. "You did come!"

"We did?" I answered, utterly blindsided. "We were expected, but I — I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Jana!" A grin flashed over their soft face. I leaned back on the steps slightly, bowed by the enthusiasm. _She matches the description,_ black hair, green tunic, copper vest, all of it. She pulled her hair back and squeezed it, watering draining down her arms.

"Good morning, then, Jana." I gave her a brief nod. "Would you mind if my friends and I came in for a chat?" I hadn't even finished my sentence before the door swung open the rest of the way and she stepped back to allow us entry. With a grateful nod, my crew and I stumbled in from the rain. Bull was the last, ducking sideways to keep his horns from clipping the doorframe.

"This is exciting." Jana burst once the door was shut. "Did you see how the Grey Wardens saved me from those corpses? They're amazing!"

My brow rose. "I hadn't seen it, actually. It's why I wanted to find you, to check on you."

"Oh!" A flush broke out over her face and reached her ears, the grin now shy. "You didn't need to, but I appreciate the fuss."

"Of course," I smiled with a nod, but it slipped from my lips a moment later. "Jana, could I ask — what were you doing out so close to the water?"

"Looking for the Grey Wardens." Jana was a quick shot, a quiet exhale of embarrassment left her. "I was going to see if they were looking for recruits, but then…"

"The dead can take anyone unawares, darling." Dorian soothed. "Show up when we least expect them." Concerned at the wording, I shot him a twisted side-glare of _what the fuck is that about?_ but the mage ignored it in favor of the elf.

"I suppose so, but it didn't set a very good impression, I'm afraid." Jana chuckled and nervously tugged at the tips of her fingers. "They told me they hadn't the time."

"Nonsense." Blackwall groused from the back, closer to the entrance. "The Grey Wardens are a noble cause. They would be happy to take anyone willing to serve." At that, Bull graced me with a quick, skeptical look and with a quiet tip of my chin, I agreed: _maybe now isn't the right time._

Instead to Jana I said, "The world needs people like you, Jana. You could focus on what you can do for your people here, instead." The elf contemplated my words for all of a second before the smile on her face told me I hadn't convinced her.

"Perhaps, but the Wardens are _heroes_. They saved me from those demons, Your Worship." She paused, her hands slowing from their nervous twitching. "With all that's happening, I'd like to help people the same way."

"Grey Warden or no, the world needs that courage." Blackwall murmured from the back. I sighed, realizing I wasn't going to win this fight on two fronts. _Joining the Wardens now could be a disaster, since we don't know what's going on with them. I don't want to add to their flock._ We left Jana to her contemplation and planning. Worry gnawed at my neck, but there was nothing I could do to stop her.

The Village of Crestwood wasn't far from Jana's cabin. The path cut between a few dilapidated homes and broken walls. Old cabins and storage sheds leaned into the mud, shattered fencing groaned with the thunder and swayed against the rain. The world was bleak and the demons and dead could walk freely in the fog of its depression.

"Shamblers." Bull cautioned. "Up there, by the main gate. I see guards, too."

"Hi-ho, then, boys." I replied, slipping my maul from its holster. It felt like _ages_ since I had last held the weapon in my hands. The handle was slick with rain, but the leather at the head of the maul and at the pommel gave me grip, the weight felt like a reassurance in my palms. It was alarming, almost, how much I missed the feel of it and the adrenaline that burst in my veins from the sensation.

The first shambler never turned quick enough to see me coming. With no archers in my current crew, speed was key. Bull kept pace behind me with Blackwall at his right flank. Dorian watched us go, his staff whirling in his grip. I slammed into the first one, the stretched skin and crumbling bones cracked and splintered under my weapon. Bull's came down next from overhead, driving through the ribcage of the next one. A Sloth crept up from the grass, hissing as it rose up and lunged for Blackwall. The Warden's shield brandished in front of him, prepared for the blow.

Dorian wasn't Solas, there was no barrier that dropped over our heads, but the shambler I didn't take down with my first swing glowed purple and blue, its sockets flashed white for a moment before its attention turned from me with a screech, the bow and arrow in its grip rose and released, stunning the Sloth before it reached Blackwall.

"What in the fucking Jesus!" I shouted, leaping away from the shambler as it raised its bow again to take another potshot at the Sloth. Blackwall shuddered with a hard restart, catching his bearings quick enough to shield bash the Sloth into the line of fire. Bull growled and circled around, blocking my sight of Dorian and keeping himself planted between the Sloth and shambler.

"Sorry, dove!" Dorian hollered from somewhere in the downpour. Another spell howled past us, behind my back and caught an approaching demon up through its maw. The Rage demon roared, scraping its claws at its mangled mouth, howling from pain as its face contorted, its body turning purple.

I raised my maul to catch it in a swing, but its limbs dropped, the fire of its rage dampened and cooled before blackening in the rain. A loud, alarming growl rumbled up behind me as Bull twisted around, his arm in full release and the maul swinging with its weight onto the creature's head. The skull split with a wet sounding kiss from the maul, the flaming essence sputtering as it struggled to regain control before it popped into the air.

My body froze, stunned. _The fucking hell was that!_ The guards had been given the advantage with two less to deal with and pressed forward, their swords singing through the rain as they cut down the zombies closest to them. I lunged off of Bull, my hand at his hip to leverage myself into a toss to clear a leap next to another skeleton. My maul came up from the ground in an underhanded swing and took the legs out from it.

"Overhead!" Dorian shouted. _No sense in looking up!_ With a shove of my heels into the ground, I drove into a roll as a handful of arrows speared the earth. Bull stormed past me, his body rolling into a twist, both hands on his maul as he crashed into the pack of archers. Blackwall had backed up with the guards, fending off another Rage that had come close.

Dorian came up to me, his hand held out to assist. Hesitation held me in place for half a second before I took his hand and he brought me up to my feet. The smirk I was growing familiar with was firm on his lips, but there was a twitch of concern around his eyes.

"That's not normal, even for magic." I muttered to him, keeping my voice low as the noise of battle died out behind me. Blackwall and Bull could handle the situation as it was, but I needed to come to grips with this new surprise. _Is that necromancy? Raising the dead should not be that easy. Where did he get magic like that?_

"No, I don't suppose it is. No one thinks to use the dead when there's so many around us." He said it candidly, though the lowly tint of defensiveness flavored his words. A moment paused between us and we stood together, assessing the other. _The dead should stay dead,_ I wanted to say. The idea that he could control them unnerved me to my core.

 _But what do I know of magic?_ It was something I would have to deal with eventually, and that _eventually_ would have to be Skyhold.

"Does it only work on the dead?" I asked carefully, my voice gently quiet. Dorian eyed me heavily in an attempt to deduce my line of logic.

"Yes." He finally answered, relaxing in my gaze. "I haven't quite learned to make the living obey, but who can?" The Mark warmed in my palm, the unrelenting relief echoed through me and I smiled at the feeling. _He was scared. How cute._

"For now, let's keep it that way." I sighed, rubbing at my temple. "Thank you for being honest."

"You don't know that I was." Dorian countered happily. I paused, surprised. _Does he not know…? No. Of course he doesn't, why would he? He doesn't know the Mark gives me that kind of insight._ A gentle, mischievous smile touched my lips.

"Dandelion." I clued him in and placed my Marked hand on his arm. "I absolutely know." I took the small satisfaction of watching his eyes grow wide and flicker down to his arm, watching the Mark glow against his skin before I let go. Bull and Blackwall hadn't approached and when I turned to find out why, I spotted them both with their arms crossed and scowling at us.

"Lord hallelujah, isn't that a sight?" I grumped, scratching at my forehead. Dorian snorted with laughter. _If it wasn't any other situation, I would have been extremely pleased with the sight, but a pair of pissed off warriors is not a good deal for me._

"I am in full agreement, my darling. Look at those scowling faces. Rippling muscles." He teased gracefully, nudging my shoulder. My eyes rolled with a quiet chuckle and I started my way on over. Qunari and Warden had their eyes pinned to Dorian, but the man in question dignified them with a high brow and stiff upper lip.

"I'm gonna say it now, and I'm gonna say it once," I told my group, mindful of the worried guards not far from us, "all comments, questions, or concerns about any magic usage during this trip will wait until Skyhold."

"Boss —" Bull started in. I raised my hand and placed it on his chest, as if my strength was enough to hold him back. He stared at me, his one eye dark with distrust and the corner of it twitched before he rumbled with a quiet snort, glaring at Dorian before relaxing into disinterest.

"Dear me, you are far more obedient a Tal-Vashoth than I thought." Dorian joked lightly from behind me, clearing his staff over his shoulder and latching it into its holster. Bull tensed under my hand for no more than a split second, his muscles quivering before he relaxed again.

"Do not push it, _Vint_." Bull growled lowly. "As long as she likes you, I _tolerate_ you. Hear?"

"Heard." Dorian grinned, immensely pleased. "Pity for you I've swept her off her feet, isn't it?"

"Gentlemen." I clapped my hands, drawing attention to myself. "Civility, please, or I send you all home. _All_ of you."

"Why me?" Blackwall croaked just beside Bull, standing partially in the Qunari's shadow with his arms crossed behind his shield.

"Because you're certainly not _stopping_ them, are you?" I griped. A sigh ripped up my throat and I waved them off my back as I walked away toward the guards. _Honestly, if I thought y'all were gonna be fucking childish about this, I would have just come out myself._


	43. ACT II: The Cursed Be Damned

**ACT II:** _The Cursed Be Damned_

* * *

"There is so much shit going wrong in this town." Bull grumbled next to me. My crew and I stood huddled at the center of town just before the stairs that led up toward the Mayor's house. Meeting Jana had only been a mild precursor to the mess that we were to step into with the rest of the village. We had spent the better part of two hours snagging villagers to investigate the issues we had seen, only to be pointed back toward the mayor's house.

"Dead coming back, no merchants, no couriers." Blackwall added, his gaze on the townspeople that wandered past us with their meager things. Crops were low according to one villager, the water was going bad with all the runoff from the rains said another, and the bandits were taking the last bit of anything edible as payment for leaving them alone. The dead were rising because no one had put them to rest, said the Sister.

 _What a mess._

"Not to mention this terrible weather." Dorian pushed the tips of his hair from his face and then reached over and pushed the wet wisps of my hair away from my eyes as well, my head craned back with the gentle touch. "Look at her, only here half a week and she's waterlogged and dreadful."

"Bite me, flower pot." I shook out my head like a dog, letting the hair splatter around my cheeks and ears. He laughed as I did so and my attention focused on my other companions. "This is not going to be an easy fix, y'all."

"If we can fix it at all." Blackwall countered, using his shield as a stand. "Harding mentioned the fortress holding fifty, but I have no doubts that beyond and further we'll find more."

Bull nodded, "They've set up a patrol and choke point. Nothing gets in or out without them knowing and taxing it." There was a small sigh that slipped through me, _they've only left us alone in the hopes that if they don't disturb the hornet's nest, we won't come to hunt them._

"So what do you suggest we do? I know we gotta talk to the mayor, but after?" I asked with a glance between them. The villagers had no care for what we were doing in their home, there weren't enough of them to boot us out, and too few for us to concern ourselves with being spied upon.

"If we're going to deal with everything, then I suggest a list." Dorian clapped his hands once and glanced between us. "I have limited battle expertise, but usually handling the biggest thing first frees up quite a bit of time."

"That's not a bad plan." I agreed with a hand to my neck. "I need to get to the lake, I have no doubt in my mind that the rift is causing the dead to rise, I think tackling that would be easier with a fortress to use."

"Agreed." Bull and Blackwall chimed in. Bull took the lead with a glance between me and the mayor's house. "Best to let the mayor know what's happening, in case any spare bandits from inland decide to retaliate."

"Can't have them holding the village hostage if we take the fortress." Blackwall huffed. "It would defeat the purpose of taking the fort."

"Yeah, I can agree with that." I rubbed my hand against my neck for a moment before letting it drop with a sigh. "Onward, then. Let's see if the mayor has any insight on that dam." We trudged on through the mud and stones. The stairs were slick with the rain and as I led them up the flight of steps, Bull's fist came to rest on my spine to keep me from slipping back. The gesture brought a small smile to my face.

Giant statues of celtic-style wolves breached the top of the stairs, howling silently at the sky. Lightning flashed over our heads and the thunder followed not long after. _The storm might be tied to the rift in the lake, it would make sense why it was so close and so constant._ I wandered over to the main house once the ground leveled out, a sign dripping next to the door with faded carvings titling the cabin as ' _The Mayor's House._ ' My knuckles reached the door first and rapped a rhythem swiftly for entry.

A spare few moments passed before the door swung open. The mayor, a man touching the end of his forties into his fifties, stood in front of us. Graying hair damp against his skull with clothes moist from the weather. He grimaced at the sight of us, but turned back from the doorway to allow us inside. The floor was relatively dry, like the rest of the home, the fireplace blazed loudly to the right, the living space warmed by its life.

 _Do not shake the water off, mongrel._

"Inquisition, please, make yourself comfortable." The mayor waved us to the seats near a small table close to the fireplace. I glanced at my men and with a glance at each other, there was a collective agreement to remain standing. _Oh alright, fine._ I would stay with them, the thought of being caught off my feet wasn't a comfortable one.

"Thank you, Mayor." I answered instead. "Normally I would ask about the weather or some other small talk, but it seems a moot point." The man blinked in surprise, but a small laugh still sputtered up from his chest, his shoulders relaxing a mere fraction.

"Ah, quite. It's… well, we've never wanted for rain since it started, I assure you." He glanced at the door as thunder answered his jest. A second passed before he returned to me, "Tell me, Your Worship, is there any way to stop the dead for rising?" A curveball of a question shot my way. _Right, starting with the biggest, hardest things first._

"I have a pretty solid theory that the undead are appearing because of a rift in the Fade." I replied readily, shifting in my armor. "The Fade is strongest where the most vivid or violent memories exist. If I can get to it, I can stop this." The mayor's gaze shot down to his feet for a moment as his teeth worried at his mouth. The moment was swift and he turned up to me, thoughtful.

Bull frowned for a second just at the corner of my eyes. My attention sharpened on the mayor.

"The light at the lake?" The mayor pondered the question. "It's coming from the caves below Old Crestwood, then. Darkspawn flooded it ten years ago during the Blight. It wiped out the village, killing refugees we took in." My eyes shut tightly at his words, pain blooming in my chest. _That's what they were talking about, the missing people and missing bodies for burial._

 _Fuck me._

"I saw a dam." I came back into the conversation, my eyes hard on the mayor. "If we use it to drain the lake, I can get to that Fade rift."

"Drain the —" He stopped short, choking with his eyes blown wide. "There must be some other way!" I paused and watched him, confused with the sudden refute. _Is there something on the other side of the dam that we don't know about? People? Supplies?_

"We're trying to help." Blackwall replied with a dark frown on his face. "The Inquisitor is the only one who can close the rifts." To play on his words, my left hand rose from my side and I tugged my glove off, letting the Mark glow brightly in the dim cabin. The mayor's gaze flashed to my hand and then to me, the fear crawling over his face. I slipped my glove back on with my narrowed gaze on the mayor, _what… are you hiding?_

"You'd — you'd have to evict the bandits in the old fort to use the dam." The mayor fumbled his words and brought his hands together, his fingers twisting. "I can't ask you to risk your life." I opened my mouth for a second, a quick retort of _do you realize who I am?_ on my lips before I stopped hard.

That was _exactly_ the kind of thinking and attitude I had _never_ wanted to get sucked into. Taking a moment, I inhaled deeply and held my breath, letting the words form on the back of my tongue.

"Mayor." I started.

"Gregory, please." He stuttered, hands flat together at the palms. "Gregory Dedrick."

"Mayor Gregory," I corrected with a gentle voice, "Crestwood can't last much longer. I don't want to leave without doing what I can." Blackwall smirked just off to my other side. Bull nodded his head, following my lead. Dorian was shuffling something behind me, aware of the drama and watching it unfold.

"I…" He hesitated, his gaze bouncing between us. He sighed heavily. "I suppose it must come to this." The mayor stepped around me and avoided Bull as he made his way over to the other side of the cabin. The other end held together a work area and a bedroom separated by a single wall. At the shelf lined with sagging books, he reached up to the highest level and fiddled around in search of something.

"I have a key that unlocks the gate to the dam controls past the fort, the bandits had taken the place from Robert, our old gamekeeper." He found it and dragged it off the shelf, palming it for a moment with his gaze lingering on the length of it. I held out my hand to prompt him and he released it into my palm. "The rift must be in the caves, as I said."

"Thank you, Mayor Gregory." I bowed my head briefly. "We'll do our best to make sure your people don't continue to suffer."

"Please, do." He replied sadly, his gaze distant. "But Inquisitor… I would not linger there."

-0-

"So how does one uproot a parasite?" Dorian asked me lightly from my right side, trotting with me through the mud. We had left the mayor in haste knowing that our course of action would take us back to the fort to clear it of its so called _parasites_.

"Usually with finesse, but I don't care much for delicacy." I answered, extremely grumpy at tripping over a rock I had mistaken for a pile of mud. It was unnerving how steadily and unrelentingly the rain came down from the heavens.

"We'll have to find a way in, the doors will be reinforced." Blackwall grumbled from behind, bringing up the rear and covering our exit from Crestwood. No more Wardens appeared and the highwaymen were suspiciously absent despite our tromping through half the village and over the main roads.

"The mayor said they killed the old gamekeeper in the fort and took up residence in it when the dead first showed up." Bull murmured off to my left, watching the road ahead of us as I had to watch my damn feet below me. "Means they knew about it beforehand, at least, and they know to cover the roads."

"We'll see what Harding has to say." I straightened my walk once we were back on the solid, compacted earth that was the main road. "Maybe the scouts have found a way in for us."

"We could be choked if it's too small, Boss." Bull advised with a wary eye down to me. "We need an entrance big enough to shove our boys through, or we'll be picked off."

"Not if you're quiet." Dorian replied with a look over my head at Bull. "You could send in a mage or two, have them blanket the area."

"Too risky." Blackwall countered with a shake of his head. "They could be overpowered. There's no guarantee there aren't former Templars in their ranks."

"Fuck," I swore hotly, "I didn't even think about that. I just assumed they were normal bandits."

"Banditry is easy to turn to when you don't have another source of income." Bull lectured quietly. "They could have mages, too. It's what the Chargers were built for, we need to hit them hard and fast." The ping-pong match had subsided into the chatter of the rain dropping around us. My hands came up to rub the cold from my face, the tip of my nose was iced through.

 _I need to know what Harding found,_ my ears were rubbed next, hair wrapped around them in tangles, _I don't want to go in there blind._ The Inquisition camp came upon us soon enough, the torchlights burning bright green from Vivienne's veilfire. _Probably the only thing to survive this fucking weather._ Harding and Krem were seated close to the requisitions table, their heads bowed together under an oilcloth to keep out of the rain. A map was in Krem's lap.

I let out a whistle to alert them. The soldiers closest and within earshot stood at attention and waited until I dismissed them with an impatient wave of my hand. Harding and Krem stood up with the lieutenant keeping the oilcloth up over his head, extending his arm out to cover Harding. I choked on swallowed snickers at the sight.

"I'm seriously hoping you guys have good news for me, because I have fuck all." I told them once we were huddled together. Krem struggled for a moment, wondering what to do with the oilcloth before settling into a defeated stance and kept it over Harding's head. My little scout looked extremely amused and fought a smile from her mouth. _Brats._

"Good news and bad news, I'm afraid." Harding answered readily. "Good news? We take the fort, we'll get to the dam."

"Bad news is the only way into the fortress is through the front door, short of using siege weapons." Krem continued with a sigh. "We found an entrance along the shore that looks like it comes up through the cellar of the fortress, but without knowing for certain…" He shrugged under the oilcloth as his voice trailed off.

"It could be trouble, yeah." I ran my hand over my head, fingers snagging in my hair. "Alright. I need the Chargers ready, we're going to have you up front as shock-troops. Have Rocky ready some explosives."

"Boss?" Bull blinked down at me in surprise.

I flashed him a grin. "Reinforced doors, right? Who says we can't do this with a bang?" The look of awe that came over the Qunari's face shifted quickly into one of feral humor and he shook out his head, shoulders tensed up with excitement.

"Do as she says, have Skinner shadow him to keep any bandits off until he's finished." Bull ordered. Krem nodded and without much adieu, gently dropped the oilcloth onto Harding's head and dodged out before she could retaliate. Blackwall and I reached forward to bring it off her, but the scout remained resolute under the cover.

"Alive?" I asked.

"Yes." She glared.

I did laugh this time.

It took minimal time to set up. Vivienne had been ordered to stay with Sera and whatever troops we didn't take with all of them to head to Crestwood proper and hold up against retaliation. Solas and Varric hadn't yet returned from their hunt for Hawke, and though it was worrisome, I had to trust they were alive. _I've already got a bit too much on my plate._

Delegation was key.

To avoid alerting the bandits too quickly of our arrival, we waited until the dead of night. Blessed and cursed with a new moon that left us blinded in the dark, the raining cascading as it ever was over our heads, and the dead stillness of absent wind, we would have the perfect cover and the worst fighting conditions all at once. The Inquisition forces had snuck around the fortress an hour or two after the sun had set and ambient light was snuffed from the sky. Skinner and a few of my scouts had subdued the patrols. Rocky had his hand ready on the detonator with the explosives sitting at the mouth of the entrance.

"They've got to know we're coming." Dorian whispered from beside me. I sat huddled in the tall brush with the crew; Blackwall and Dorian stood to either side of me, with Bull guarding the front, hunched and prepared to launch through the entrance at first signal with my hand resting at the middle of his back.

"Of course they do." Blackwall replied lowly, glancing around me to Dorian. "Both parties are well aware of what's about to happen, the deciding factor here is who's better prepared."

" _We_ are." I answered and reached out with my other hand to scoot him back. My gaze found Rocky and I held up my full hand, _let's get ready to rumble!_ Bull trembled under my other hand, his muscles tense and coiled with anticipation.

Pinky went down first, Rocky bunkered into the boulders and grinned at the door. The Inquisition forces had saddled up against the walls of the fortress, leaning into the shadows and letting the rain bounce off their heads and chests.

Ring finger brought Krem slithering through the Inquisition soldiers that lined the left side of the entrance, pulling a few of them back from the blast radius. His tower shield went up and he ducked behind it, another soldier on the opposite side doing the same.

Middle finger and my crew started to quiver in their places from excitement, resting on a hair-trigger.

Index finger remained, Dalish fade-shifted through the troops, dropping barriers over their heads in the last final seconds, the soldiers glowed a purplish-blue hue and shimmered in the rain. It was mere seconds that we stood there.

My thumb was the last, and with it coming down, I smacked Bull's back as Rocky's explosives thundered through the air and ripped into the mouth of the fortress, the shockwave beat into the tower shields before careening into us. I huddled behind the bulk of The Iron Bull and his heels caught the ground to brace against the blast before pitching himself forward. Like clockwork, the Qunari sprung from his place and crashed through the brittle wood of the massive doors, the soldiers flowed in from behind.

Archers lined the first defense from the roof of stables inside the fortress. Their swordsmen were hunched on the wings of the door like the Inquisition had done and jumped to snare the first few that came through. We had known that, we were _prepared_ for that, as Bull roared through and brought his maul through with a devastating swing, slamming the head on either side with reckless strength.

Krem was accustomed to his commander and slipped through in between swings and brought his sword through the legs of the closest unfortunate soul. Dalish flashed off to the other side and with a twirl of her staff, a sea of fire burst from her feet and snarled over the earth. The rain did nothing to deter the hellfire, the flames rose like grasping fingers and began to melt the metal of the bandits' armor.

It rooted them in place for the rest of us. Blackwall dodged forward once Bull had shifted further through the entry way. Blackwall shield bashed two approaching highwaymen and his hatchet hissed through the air and caught one of them with a bite of steel into the clavicle. Inquisition soldiers flooded in behind us, their shields up to keep the arrows at bay, a solid wall marched across the courtyard, shoving the bandits back into the fortress.

"Bull!" I commanded. The Qunari dragged his maul through the muddy earth, flinging it at any bandit that approached and turned on his heel at the sound of my voice. Without sparing me a glance, he took two or three hefty lunges toward me, slotting neatly at one-third of my vision and becoming my shield.

"Dalish, shatter!" Bull hollered. A scream of ice spiked through the ground and shook under the feet of the bandits and ensnared the howling armored mabaris that rocketed our way. I swerved around Bull with my back to his, using his momentum to bring my maul into a crashing swing on the head of the nearest animal. The ice had eaten up to its ears and crystalised the poor creature, leaving it open to my swing. The other was too far for either of us to reach, but Blackwall had seen the chaos and sped up to the next one.

Dorian's black-purple streams of magic moaned past us over our heads and soon the highwaymen we had disposed of were clattering back to their feet. Charred and decapitated bodies rose and wobbled on their broken knees before lifting swords and shields, turning toward their once brothers-in-arms.

"Push past them! Don't attack the dead!" I screamed, noticing a few of the Inquisition had hesitated at the sight of the raised bodies. Once more I was behind Bull and shoved my shoulder into his back, prompting him to move. He did so, thundering through the flailing bandits to get me to the stairs. Blackwall came up behind us and covered my end with his shield. Dorian couldn't be found and Dalish was a mist to the rain. Krem commanded the courtyard with his own barking commands, keeping the Inquisition forces focused on holding ground against any who tried to escape.

Up the stairs we flew. Skinner and Grim had come up along the side of the stairs, the nimble elf had launched herself with a foot to Grim's back and then his shoulders, sailing past us like a ghost on the railing and deeper into the fortress. Grim parkoured off a few crates and jumped ahead of us on the stairs, following close behind her. Bull and I weren't far off and had an easier time of it when no bandits came out toward us.

We reached the entryway into the second courtyard on the next level with Grim caught at the door by a tower shield. Bull marched up behind his man and with one nasty palm thrust, shoved the tower shield back and tumbling. Grim and I slipped through with a shared look. Grim nodded and bolted away, leaving the highwayman to me on the ground. My maul came up from over my head with a two-handed swing and hammered into their neck. The armor whined as it bent inward and blood spurt from the impact for a second or so before it drained into the ground.

Bull's shadow came back up to my left side and I continued our march, swerving and swiveling behind the Qunari to take any bandit that he missed on his blindside, a few more died to that maneuver. A horn blew from somewhere distant in the fortress and the Qunari set a growl to his teeth. My hand came back up to his side and gripped him to keep him with me.

"Stay with me," I ordered, my fingers biting into his slick skin, "I'll let you loose soon enough, I promise." A rumbling, echoing chuckle vibrated through my fingers and I let go to let him push forward. The second courtyard held a good portion of supplies, scattered all out over the grounds. There were archers up on the next landing, but Skinner had reached them and if the screams were anything to go by, she was in full terrorizing mode.

Grim was at the center landing of the courtyard, dancing around lumber and crates to deal with a fully armored warrior with another tower shield. With a brief double tap of my palm, Bull shot from my side and met the game head on, covering Grim as a blow had winded him down to one knee. With the guard distracted, I raced up the stairway toward Skinner. More screams came from behind us, but a quick glance let me see Dalish and Dorian come through with ice crawling up the stonewalls and a shambling mabari guarding Dorian's heels.

"Shit!" Skinner cursed into the rain. I was halfway up the stairs before I could see what she turned foul about; a bandit had slipped past her and beelined it for me. His helmet was low and bore no shield that I could see. My grip tightened on my maul and only steps he was from me before I swung my maul from the ground up. The bandit ducked to the right, his helmet catching just the edge of my weapon, but I could now see his.

 _Daggers! Rogue — shit, fuck — dodge!_

My knees buckled instinctively when the rogue turned on their heel to dive for me, daggers at the ready. My weight hit the ground and I threw myself down to the left, rolling with my maul held out to avoid hitting myself. The daggers clanged with each other overhead. My heel caught stone and my opposite knee turned up to brace me into a kneel. The rogue turned around with an underhanded grip on a dagger. Without a second thought, I swung my maul out along the ground and caught the bandit's ankle, then yanked my maul toward me to trip them.

Skinner flew up from behind me, taking advantage of the other's surprise and went for his throat. She landed with a wet thud on his chest, her daggers shoved into his neck and lung. The bandit struggled for a moment, only to choke as Skinner flicked her wrists and snapped his neck. It was over in seconds.

Neither she nor I waited for the other, we were on our feet and charging over the landing to get to the next area.

"Skinner, shadow!" Bull yelled from down below. Grim was being hauled to his feet from under a pile of wood, Bull's face was smothered in blood. The elf pulled out from the lead and instead shifted and swam through the rain to come around me and shadow at my non-dominant side, her daggers glinting in the downpour. _Ah, that's what he meant — clever._

I shot through the door like a madwoman with the head of my maul used like a battering ram. Skinner and I flew inside, unaware of whatever was on the other side of the door. The small room numbed us to the sound of the rain before we ducked through the next door. The third level bloomed out and stretched toward the towering walls that climbed up into higher levels. Archways patterned the opposite end and from within we could hear voices howling through the rain.

" _Cut them off! Keep moving!_ "

Skinner hissed at my heels, annoyance rolling off her in waves.

"Skinner, fetch the strays. Leave anything bigger than you to us — _go!_ " I ordered her. With the speed of a fired bullet she zipped away from me and dove into the archways, the shadows obscuring her form just enough to catch a few of them in surprise. I searched through the rain for another way in and up toward the tower. _I can't trust there isn't something bigger up there, I need reinforcements._ A few hollow screams rattled through the rain, and then silence.

Bull and Grim ran through the door, slowing to a stop near me when I was spotted. Bull's gaze flashed over me, assessing damages, before he snorted steam from his nose and looked for Skinner. The elf appeared in the darkness, snaking up to us and planting herself at Bull's side, her voice quick and quiet through the rainfall.

"I've killed the scouts, but there is another up at the last level." She reported, her gaze focused on Bull. "He is no shem — Avvar, perhaps. Large, armored. I saw a warhammer." Clattering footsteps came up from the entry into the level with Krem leading the helm. Dorian and Dalish were just behind him and they marched over to us.

"All secured down below, Your Worship." Krem saluted me. "We've got soldiers posted at the doors and through the cellar, with Blackwall to command them."

"Good. Dalish, if you could?" I tilted my head at her. She smiled and with a tap of her staff, another barrier kissed over our heads and blanketed us. Dorian came along to my right side and inspected me, his hand reached out and rested at the back of my neck. A shiver of a minor healing spell warmed my skin.

"Thanks." I murmured, rolling my neck. I glanced between him and Bull. "If you wouldn't mind?" Bull narrowed his only eye at Dorian, but held his hand out. Dorian made no jest and reached out to shake the Qunari's hand and the spell blossomed up Bull's arm a second later. The blood dripping from his brow stopped, the rain washing away the rest.

"Plan?" Bull turned to me, letting go of Dorian's hand. I had quite the collection of people; mages in the form of Dalish and Dorian. Hitters like Grim, Krem, and Bull. Skinner had done her duty beautifully. My attention shifted to her. She stilled and narrowed her eyes at me.

"I need you to run, Skinner. Get word to Harding, tell them to start heading this way." I waited as she brought her gaze to Bull. He reached out and tapped her shoulder, sending her off with a tick of his head. In a blink she was gone and I waited with my group, my eyes peering through the rain and darkness. _We need to end this fast if they have an Avvar with them._

"We have a few scraps left, and the big dog. Grim, Krem, keep the strays off my back." I nodded to them, waiting for the accepting salute. To Dalish and Dorian, I said: "Fence in the area, focus the fight to Bull and me, okay?"

"You'll be alright?" Dorian asked with a concerned frown. "We can bring in Blackwall from the lower level. The soldiers don't need him anymore."

I shook my head. "We don't have time for that, it'll let them prepare and booby-trap the area."

"She can handle it." Bull rolled his shoulders. "We need to get moving before we lose momentum."

"Agreed." I answered and shouldered my maul. Krem and Grim nodded, then with measured steps they made their way through the arches and up toward the last and highest level. Dalish and Dorian followed behind them with the grace of dancers, to leave Bull and me bringing up the rear with lumbering steps. Bull eyed me from my left and my skin prickled with the attention.

"Something the matter?" I asked him, shaking the water off my head and shoulders with a quick jerk of my head.

He shook his head lightly. "No. You're holding up well, Boss. Good to fight next to you." _And now just like that, all those emotions I had repressed come rushing back. I hate you so much, you asshole._ Heat sparked at the back of my neck and flashed into my hair, my ears felt like they were curling from the sensation. I bit the inside of my cheeks and kept my pace steady.

"Same to you, Bull. Shall we?" I asked lightly, clearing my throat. Silently, we pulled up as Krem and Grim took up either side of the entry into the last level. It was roofless, with bars on the arches that acted as windows all along the left side, leading out toward the flagpole base at the far end from us. The ledge on the right was steep with a low stone wall as the only barrier to keep one from falling. My group waited for my signal, and with a sharp jerk of my flat hand, we were off to the races.

There were three that remained to guard. Out by the ruined tower that housed the flag I could see the massive form of their warrior. Our attention focused on the smallest group with Grim and Krem rocketing from their hiding spots and diverging each to a separate fighter. Dalish swung her staff low to the ground and ice sprang up high enough to keep the exits covered. Dorian took the few that Skinner had killed before hand and brought them back into the fight, their lungs moaning from the effort.

Bull and I shot past it all toward the warrior and even in the darkness of the rain, I could see the horned helmet I had once seen on Morvan the Under. _Fucking shit, are we dealing with a clan?!_ Bull had reached the stairs before I had and when he did, two spiked armor shields came up from the ground. _Fuckers were hiding in wait for us!_ I reached out and barely managed to capture Bull's strap to his shoulder armor and jerked him back.

Surprise lit the Qunari's face at my vicious pull, since I had actually caused him to stumble.

"Boss?" He blinked between me and the approaching group, their steps steady to keep the towers close together as a barrier. I shook my head and dragged Bull back. _Thinkthinkthink_ — _it's too narrow, they'll shove us off, they'll pin us!_ Bull could see it now, too, there was no railing or stone guard to keep us from tumbling off the ledge of the steps.

"I got an idea," I glanced back at where the others held the fight, the three remaining highwaymen putting up a harder resistance than most. I swallowed and gripped my left hand into a fist over the strap. _Fucking hell, Solas is going to be so pissed, but we can't get caught like this!_ With a horrendous heave, I hauled Bull back toward me and turned on a heel to slam him up against the wall, the Qunari's eye going wide in shock.

"Don't move!" I ordered him, but it was lost in a cascade of thunder. The Avvar was on us, steps away as he raised his maul. Bull took no heed of my orders and was rearing his weapon back to meet the blow, my name falling from his lips.

My left hand released him, scraping along the wall as I hastily pivoted on my heel to greet the Avvar face to face. The Mark glittered under my glove before it ripped the fabric into my scarred palm, the light of the Fade growing. It gave me precious seconds as the Avvar and his guards hesitated at the sight.

It was just enough.

With a swing I brought my hand up and saw through the glow of light the thin wisp of the Veil, just as I had seen it in that cave all those weeks ago. My fingers passed through it and a searing white noise clattered into my palm. My grip snagged the wisps and with all the strength I had used to manhandle my Qunari, I _yanked_.

 _Consume!_ I commanded wildly.

The Mark lit like a firework, sputtering for a moment before a second later the Veil was wrenched open with a deafening scream. A shockwave of power and essence from the other side burst outward and knocked me back against Bull, the Qunari's arms coming to wrap around my waist before he turned us so I was pressed and protected against the wall. My vision was obscured by his arm and shoulder, but the Mark pulsed with each burst of energy from the rip I had created.

I could see the feet of the Avvar and the bottom of the tower shields slowly fade into particles of nothing, streams of ghostly essence that were caught up in the hunger of the Fade. There was no concept of how long it was, Bull's chest was my barrier against the chaos, screams that echoed through the rain before the Veil forced itself closed with a violent _swoosh_. A jolting pain, a sensation of gnarled ice ricocheted up through the Mark and into my arm.

The Mark pulsed in time with my heart for just a moment before it went pale in my palm. My ears were ringing, I could hear Bull and Krem calling for me, deep against the thunderous tide in my skull. My eyes shut and my hands came up to hold my ears. _Stop,_ I wanted to say, but my lips were glued shut. The voices turned heated, arguing, and though I couldn't tell who was arguing with who, I didn't want them to continue. My right hand fell from my ear and I reached for the first closest thing.

My hand fell to Bull's chest and the Qunari's ribs shuddered under my touch, but his hand came down over mine and held it. There was a beat of silence and then swiftly I was lifted, my legs level with my hips as Bull's arms shifted from protective barrier to cradle. My head was tucked against his neck and chest and my skull pounded with each step he took. It was everything I could do to focus, to keep my thoughts quiet so I wouldn't burst at the seams from madness.

 _We are going to do that never again, Jaime Wyatt._ I hissed between my ears, my eyes shut tightly. _That has got to be one of the stupidest things you've_ _ **ever**_ _done._

The rain had stopped at some point, there was a jolt, a jostle, and a brief fall with skin and armor scraping against wet stone. Small beacons of light grew past my eyelids, but my eyes refused to open. My heart thundered in my chest hundreds of miles a minute. Both of my knees were bent over someone's leg, one arm wrapped around my back with the person's second knee pressed against my spine. _Someone's got you tucked into their lap,_ my hazy mind supplied. A large hand came to rest on my diaphragm.

 _It's Bull,_ my brain figured out with delirious amusement.

"Easy," Bull's voice echoed in between my ears, "deep breaths, Boss. C'mon, deep breaths."

 _I'm trying,_ I wanted to say, but I had no sense of control over my body. My throat refused my voice and my lungs protested the lack of oxygen, despite the fact that I was most likely hyperventilating right this second. There was no pain in my arm anymore as there previously had been when I used the Mark, but I felt this repercussion was far, _far_ worse.

"What in blue blazes _happened_?" Dorian's voice warbled somewhere just out of my range. The shout had me instinctively curling and Bull's arms tightened around me.

"Hold off on the questions, Vint." Bull growled over my head, his voice rumbling through his chest into my left ear pressed against it. "Let me get this under control first — Krem! Get them out of here, get me Stitches!"

"Here," Dalish's voice dripped like the rain, "I know what that was. She's overwhelmed."

"I know _that_ , Dalish." Bull groused, his arms tightening around me. The tips of Dalish's fingers brushed my face and neck as she tried to shuck me from Bull's hold.

"Chief, please." Dalish was in no rush, she waited a polite few seconds and chuckled when Bull's arms gently released me. A hand came over my closed eyes, Dalish's palm was unnaturally cool and her words were warm against my ears. A breath of cold spread across my skin and forehead, easing down into my neck and shoulders, it coiled my tension only in the briefest of moments before it released it.

I sighed, the sensation was heavenly and I melted against Bull's chest.

"There." Dalish took her hands away. My gaze was static as I blinked my eyes open. "The energies of the Fade can be a lot to handle. She should be fine now."

"Thank you, Dalish." Bull sighed, relieved. He shifted me higher in his hold, closer to his chest. Not like there was any place for me to go. Any closer, I would be an organ transplant. "We'll have Stitches look over her anyway. Find Skinner, check the place for any stragglers."

"Aye, aye, Chief." Dalish stood and glanced me. I offered her the tiniest wave I could manage with the tips of my fingers. She smiled wonderfully for me and returned the gesture before leaving. My ears had returned to their duties, the world coming back into focus. The steady pace of Bull's heart was to my left ear, and the sound of rain to my right.

Bull's hand left my back and rested on my head. "... what am I going to do with you?"

"I'm awake." I hastily explained, not wanting to be caught in the awkward moments of a confession. _Not that he would, but I've seen too many rom-coms to trust it._

"I know you are." He growled, his hand dropping from my head to the back of my neck. "What is _wrong_ with you? What was that, Boss?" Any number of explanations came unbidden to my lips, but all of them were more frightening than the last. _Who's going to trust someone that can just rip the Fade open at a moment's notice? Who's going to trust me not to kill them with a wave of my hand?_

Bull shifted so that his hand left my neck and the same arm wrapped over my shoulder, hugging me to his chest. The other arm had come around to rest across my hip, his legs moving gently to keep me warm and cradled. I peered up, but all I could see was the edge of his chin and length of his neck. A flush blossomed across my face and guilt chewed at my stomach. I wanted the comfort, desperately, but this felt like theft.

"I thought we told you not to use the Mark like that?" Bull scolded me softly, his throat bobbing against my temple. I swallowed with a shudder racing down my spine. _I'm going to die here, from heatstroke, and I'm ashamed to think it would be the best day of my life._

"It was a shitstorm. We couldn't see, and they had shields." I defended weakly, because in retrospect, the whole plan I had to use the rift to give us space to retreat sounded like a fantastically _idiotic_ idea. My eyes shut momentarily, praying gratefully that Solas would only _hear_ of the stupidity and not see it first-hand.

"Boss. That's setting off an explosive to deal with a stuck window." Bull chuckled, the hand at the small of my back patted me lightly.

"I didn't say it was a smart plan. Just a plan." I grumbled, the wavering in my voice masked by it. _I can't handle this. We're just_ — _friends? Co-workers? Boss and employee? Fuck if he's like this with me, I can't imagine what_ — _nope._

I let the thought fall away. Now was not the time to deal with a fangirling heart.

"I think I'm okay now." I muttered against his chest and then wiggled to shake free of his arms. They fell away easily and the cold touch of rain-cooled air graced my face and soggy hair. A shiver quaked my body and I was violently against it. _Fuuuuuck that shit._

"Never mind." I argued, reaching for his arms and tucking myself back in.

His echoing laugh was enough to soothe my rattled nerves.


	44. ACT II: The Glass Half Empty

**ACT II:** _The Glass Half Empty_

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 **Note:** _Thank you all for sticking it out and leaving encouraging reviews! I hope you'll enjoy the next round as much as the last!_

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The Inquisition had taken the rest of the day to clear out and gear up our newly acquired fortress with the midnight raid being a success. Scout Harding had Leliana's birds at the ready, as well as spies, and our web spread across Crestwood rapidly. I had been found curled up in Bull's protective cradle, fast asleep and exhausted from my attempts at God. It was no surprise to me when I woke up hours later with a tent over my head and the rain pattering against the cloth with the sound of voices circling my tent.

I could hear Vivienne and Harding distinctively, their voices carried over the constant din of chatter from passing messengers and soldiers. Glancing around, I was undressed to my underclothes, a clean bandage wrapped around my left palm, and a poultice of something rubbed over my arm. _Huh. I didn't think I was feeling any pain. That… could be a bad thing. Yikes._ I rose from my cot, the tent visibly larger than any I had previously.

 _I wonder if we took this from the highwaymen?_ The spoils of a raid, I suppose, but the thought still made me mildly uncomfortable. It may have been stolen from someone else in the village. Inspecting the rest of me, I didn't obtain any new injuries or wounds. The normal, jagged scars over my left arm remained, the lacerations from my encounter with Corypheus a vivid reminder of the massive gap in power. I sighed, clapped my hands on my knees and stood to get dressed.

When I poked my head outside, the rain immediately smothered me. I hadn't been completely dry upon waking, but it had been nice enough to be warm. Vivienne spotted me from across the courtyard. It appeared the Inquisition had set up on the second level. My Enchantress rose a hand to pause her conversation with Harding and made her way over to me.

"Inquisitor," She greeted politely with a glance over my form, "good to see you awake. If we may?" She didn't wait for me to agree and lead me toward a table that was housed under a three-quarter tent. Maps, old and new, were spread out over the tabletop. Candles housed in glass lanterns to protect them from the wind and rain sat at each corner. I peered at the information, curious.

"Is this Crestwood?" I asked, looking over the map. I tugged gently at a corner to bringing it closer to me.

"Yes," Vivienne nodded. "Sera took a few scouts out and managed to map a good portion of the surrounding area."

"In the rain?" I asked, dumbfounded with a look to Vivienne.

She snorted delicately. "She was restless. She is competent, I sent her on her way to pick apart the land."

"Good on you." I thanked her. "Last thing we need is another jar of bees lobbed into the madness."

"You're quite right." Vivienne sighed and crossed her arms. "As it is, we've managed to bring in a hefty force. The Nightingale deemed it sufficient to maintain our influence here, so half of the Inquisition went back with the Bull's Chargers." Lightning struck my chest and I shivered at the feeling, forcing my expression to remain straight. _Does that mean they all left? Bull, too?_

Instead, I asked; "Solas and Varric?"

"Missing." Vivienne intoned. "But considering the extensive knowledge they both possess on avoiding capture, I am not surprised."

"But they haven't reported in for a while, have they?" I clarified with a searching look over her face. She shook her head and rested her arms under her bosom, but she seemed unconcerned. My hand came up to my face and rubbed at my chin, _where could they have gone? Where would they get trapped up?_ I could see areas circled on the map with the Thedas word for _camp_ written on them. One was marked with a large sweeping _X_.

"What's here, Vivienne?" I pointed to the mark. Her gaze graced it for a moment.

"Venatori camps. Sera spotted them and some more highwaymen further out into the hills." Vivienne leaned over and drew her fingers over the map, circling a few other unmarked areas. "There are armored warriors along the lake, as well as a dragon's nest out here." She circled a mark for another fortress.

"Of course there is." I grumbled, my hand moving from my chin to my forehead. "Fucking hell… no. Okay, I gotta deal with the dam and the rift first. Then Hawke and Stroud."

"We're running out of time, Inquisitor." Vivienne warned me, her voice low. "The Wardens are becoming bold, they're marching to our doors and demanding we turn out our fortress for them."

"Refuse." I answered easily, bringing my gaze up to hers. "This is our fortress. Even if Stroud was here, he was disowned by the Wardens. He would belong to the Inquisition."

A smirk flirted with Vivienne's lips. "Good. I'll see that the guards are updated on the situation. Are you to head out to the dam?"

"Yes." I nodded. "Have the troops prepared for the quake. Emptying that much flood water will cause a stir."

"Understood, Inquisitor." Vivienne tipped her head lightly, eyes closed briefly. "Your men are awaiting orders in the mess hall."

"Thank you, Vivienne." I watched as she left me and stepped back out into the rain. The beauty she held was enough to remained unchanged with heads turning to spy her as she walked. My attention turned back to the map. _Venatori at one end. Dragon on the other. We still don't know where Hawke and the others are, and I got the dam to finish up._ With a sigh, I left the cover of the tent and made my way over to the mess hall.

I found Blackwall and Dorian sharing a small table. My Warden was stiff as a board, but Dorian looked perfectly at home despite the soggy nature of his surroundings. The mess hall was dark with limited torchlight, the other tables and chairs were empty around them. My shoulders slump as I walked toward them, saddened that Bull was nowhere in the immediate vicinity. _So much for that idea, he must have left with the Chargers._

"If it isn't our beautiful sunflower!" Dorian said sweetly. "You look positively drenched. How are you, my dove?"

"Alive?" I answered with a shrug, chuckling softly. "I cannot believe you're in such high spirits. You're unnatural."

Dorian sighed happily. "These looks weren't born on this earth, yes, I agree."

"Come off." Blackwall grunted with his arms crossed. He brought his gaze to me, inspecting my face. "We heard about what happened at the last fight. A rift appeared?"

I winced. "Well… in a way? I _made_ a rift."

"No one just _makes_ a rip in the Veil, my love." Dorian's sudden shift from playful to absolute seriousness startled me. He rolled a small barrel out with his clever footwork and motioned for me to take it. I did so, stunned and silent.

"This no one does." I answered quietly, mindful of the tension in our Tevinter mage. "The Mark gives me an unnaturally strong connection to the Fade. I can close and open rifts nearly at will."

"Nearly?" Dorian pressed with a lean forward to place his elbows on the tabletop.

"Well, like." I stuttered, wondering how to explain my situation without raising the alarm. "I can't do it all the time. It takes a lot of energy, as you saw." _It feels like my soul is being ripped out through my arm,_ but I couldn't tell anyone that. Surely that explanation would get me locked up and I would never see the light of day again.

"Did you pass out again this time?" Blackwall asked darkly. My shoulders hitched to my neck and I shot him an accusatory glance as Dorian shifted his attention between the both of us.

"I didn't — I mean, last time I did, but not this time. Not immediately." I retorted defensively. "I had a pretty good idea what I was doing, and it saved our asses." It was an old argument Blackwall and I had from time to time, and to have it now in front of a newcomer was a low blow on his part. He sensed it, his gaze shooting to Dorian, and with a sigh he let the argument go.

"Can you _see_ the rifts before they happen?" Dorian asked with piqued curiosity.

"I can feel them more than anything." I explained, tilting my head and bringing my left hand up to the table. The gloves I wore hid the Mark from sight, but that in no way stopped the feeling of grasping fingers that spread across the table. I could feel the presence of Blackwall and Dorian (he being the brightest) if I focused on it long enough.

Dorian eyed my hand suspiciously. "Can you feel anything? You insinuated you could tell if I was lying."

"I can feel emotions. Strong ones." I explained, curling the fingers of my left hand, my armor glinted in the low torchlight. "The rifts are the same. I can feel when they're about to burst, or find the weakest points."

"Maker." Blackwall breathed, staring at me in alarm. "How long have you been able to do that?"

"What? Hear the screaming in my head? Forever." I joked, but it didn't settle well with Blackwall. Dorian snorted lightly, smirking at my humor and shaking his head with a clear hint of amusement. There was a scrape behind me and I jumped at the sound, turning around to find the source of the noise.

From the dark end of the mess hall I could see the rise of horns in the light, shadows cascading across Bull's face and shoulders as he stood and wandered over to us. An irrational sense of dread flooded my gut and turned it cold, _how long was he there? How did he hide in the shadows like that?_

"What on earth are you doing over there?" I played my fear off my humor, my mind racing. "Scare the shit out of me. Did you guys know he was there?" I laughed, turning to Blackwall and Dorian. The mage shot a disinterested look at the Warden and my fear turned into low-key rage.

"You did." I deadpanned. I turned to the Ben-Hassrath. "What were you looking for?"

"We were worried, Boss." Bull answered, tilting his head apologetically. He came up beside my left and dropped carefully down to his haunches so he would be closer to my head level. "It's been a wild ride you've taken us on, we just wanted to check on you."

"And you couldn't think to ask me first?" I demanded low in my throat, glaring at the Qunari.

"You've lied to us before." Bull fired back easily. "You end up getting hurt because you don't tell us where the limit is."

"That's not a very nice way to say it." Dorian scolded him, narrowing an eye. I squared my shoulders, readily agreeing and offended at being thrown under the bus in such a way. Bull's gaze never wavered or left my face. A faint smile touched his lips.

"You wouldn't believe me if I sweet-talked you, would you?" He said, focused solely on me. Slowly, the tension faded from my shoulders and shame echoed through my muscles, slumping them slightly.

"... you don't have to be so smug about it." I replied quietly. He chuckled and nodded his head, smug all the same about having caught me in the crosshairs. He stood from his squat and the joints of his knees popped as he did so. My eyes found Blackwall.

"What about me isn't trustworthy?" I pinned him with my question. He fluttered for a moment, gaze going wide and arms tightening around his chest in surprise. Bull walked around behind me and the tips of his fingers trailed along the back of my shoulders in warning; _don't shoot the messenger._ Right.

"I trust you, Inquisitor." Blackwall defended, straightening in his seat.

I raised a hand to stop him. "No, that isn't what I asked. What _about_ me isn't trustworthy? Something I'm doing is making you question me. What is _that?_ " Dorian watched us, entertained greatly by the discussion, his eyes alight as he gathered information.

"We've had this discussion before." Blackwall attempted to sidestep. Of _course_ we've had the discussion before, I remembered all of them vividly and they each centered on the same theme: self-preservation. A heavy sigh left my lips and I pressed my right thumb and index to the bridge of my nose between my eyes.

"Blackwall." I started.

"It's a constant with you." He immediately retaliated, wrangling his voice down to an acceptable level and glaring at Dorian to _keep your mouth shut_ as the discussion flared up. Bull stood with his back to the main yard, keeping us blocked from casual glance. His gaze stayed only momentarily on Blackwall and Dorian, but it came to rest on me as we continued.

"And we've had this discussion more times than I care to fucking count." I snapped back tiredly. "You can't just keep me in a bubble and hope the world fixes itself!"

"But certainly throwing yourself into the abyss isn't going to do that, either." Blackwall challenged, his arms loose from being across his chest and planting his hands on his thighs. "You cannot lay to trust that someone will always be there to save you."

 _Maker give me strength. I'm going to punch his face._ I prayed quietly and closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and holding it for a brief second or two. _He means well. I know he does, but doesn't he see the situation we're in? I can't be scared of meeting the crazy shit we have to face._

"Blackwall." I tried again, keeping my voice level. _How do I get him to understand?_ There was a beat of silence between all of us and I broke it with another sigh. "I need you to listen to me, because I'm only going to say this once. Clear?"

Blackwall hesitated before giving me a nod.

"I'm going to die from this." I stated flatly. He riled up and I raised a hand to silence him. "No, you listen. I am going to die from this. It's spreading. Slowly, but it is. Solas knows it, I can feel it." And talking about my own death should have been alarming, but… _Knowing that Corypheus is out there, hunting me, it makes it easier._

"I need you to understand, Blackwall, that I am running on a very, _very_ tight schedule." I continued softly, lowering my hand and glancing at all of them, my gaze lingered on Bull, but his expression was pleasantly neutral. _What would the spy care if I died or not? Would my friend care?_ Emotions for a different time.

"This doesn't mean that I _want_ to meet death faster, but I cannot wait for it to reach me." My gaze shifted to my Warden, willing him to understand. "Sooner or later Corypheus is going to come for me, and I need to be ready. I need to have my list of things to do, _finished_."

"I can understand that, Inquisitor, but I — it seems like every action you take could be your last." Blackwall chewed through his words, trying to find the right path to take to get me on his side. _Trust me, buddy, I am on your side, I want to live but I can't trust that I will._ An old conversation with Bull flickered through my thoughts.

"Yeah, because I can believe that we'll finish this and we'll all get to go home and get fat and happy." I ignored the way Bull's gaze flickered over my face to catch my gaze. Blackwall blinked at me and I continued, "We won't, but I can think we will."

Dorian, silent through most of the argument, leaned in and took my left hand in his, turning me away from Blackwall. His palms were warm against my cold fingers and he brought the back of my hand to his mouth, kissing my knuckles with full lips.

"You are, without a doubt, the most insane woman I have ever met." Dorian said with my hand wrapped in both of his, his lips pulled into a full smirk. "Try not to kill the rest of us with you." A snorting laugh bubbled up through my nose and I pulled my hand away, smacking his once it was free.

"That's the plan." I said and to Blackwall I turned. "We keep having this conversation, Blackwall, and I can appreciate that you care about my wellbeing, but you're going to have to let it go."

"And let you kill yourself?" Blackwall bit back darkly, displeased with how the conversation had turned. I stood from my barrel and stretched my arms over my head, my armor clinking together. I considered his question, I had to as it was unfair to leave him without an answer. _An honest one._

"What I do, I do so that you don't have to." I found myself saying. Warmth bloomed in my chest and the Mark in my left palm pulsed with the emotion, selfish and deeply ingrained in my soul. _I couldn't stand to lose any of you, not now. It would be the end of me if I did. Selfishly, I'd rather go first than watch any of you die._

Selfish as hell, for sure.

It was enough to silence my Warden. I reached out and patted his shoulder affectionately and with a swift snag, he grabbed my wrist and held it firm. We waited together, his gaze off to one side on the floor and I watched his face, curious. Anger warred over his face with something else, his eyes pinched with pain. His fingers squeezed around my wrist from heartbeat to the next and he released me just as fast. He stood and gripped his shield from against the table, adjusting his hatchet at his side.

Dorian and I shared a look, the mage rolling his eyes gently before standing as well. Bull's attention followed Blackwall until I reached his side, his one eye came around to me with horns tipped to the other side. Curiously I tipped my chin up to him, a silent question of _do you think it worked?_

 _It did,_ was his nod. Silent as the grave, we gathered up our things and adjusted our armor before making our way out toward the dam.

-0-

"Here we go." I worked around in the many pockets of my gear to find the key that Mayor Gregory had given me. We stood on the wall of the dam itself, a tavern sat at the center and looked out over the lake. The rift and its energies burbled against the water and ghosted upward toward Crestwood and into the clouds. _I joked about it affecting the weather, but could I be right?_ We would have to see.

The door to The Rusted Horn opened readily enough. _That's… suspicious as fuck._ I held my hand up for my crew behind me and they froze. The space was too small for my maul so I reached for the small dagger in my belt and pulled it out into an underhanded grip. Slowly I entered and inspected, the hall from the door was narrow and lit with the bright light of a torch. The hairs along my neck pricked my skin as they stood.

"Torches," I whispered to anyone behind me. Blackwall came up to my right side, pressed against the wall and my armor. He looked over my shoulder and nodded to slip past me, his shield up and at the ready. I clung to his back, dagger steady in my grip as Dorian muttered something under his breath to make the shadows around us darken. Bull stood guard at the door to keep anyone from escaping.

We reached the end of the hallway and Blackwall turned sharply toward the center. There had been a

breath of giggling before shocked shouts rattled through the empty tavern. My gaze landed on the young faces and instinctively my hand shot out and snapped to Blackwall's shoulder. Not that I needed to stop him, he was just as surprised as the ones we had intruded on.

The female did her best to scramble together her clothes and slipped back into her shift with lightning speed. Hurriedly I hauled Blackwall back and shoved him into the hallway and pointed at all three of them with a silent, motherly finger of _stay the hell here, you dogs_ and went back into the main room. The male was not as quick to clothe himself, his pants were on, but his shirt was lost somewhere.

"We didn't know you were here, ser, please don't tell anyone!" The young man held his arms meekly across his chest, hiding what he could of his pale skin and standing as best he could to block the woman from my sight until she was decent.

"How…" I stuttered with a shake of my head. "How did you get past the guards?" As far as I was aware, we had guards posted around the fort, and the only other way to the tavern was _through_ the lake itself.

"There weren't any when we got here." The young man shook his head, shivering despite the blaze of the fireplace right next to him. Surprise lit my face, _no guards when you got here? They must have slipped through sometime during the transition of ownership._

"We just heard you killed the bandits, Your Worship." The young woman spoke up behind her companion, decent in a dress and coat wrapped around her shoulders. "We didn't know you were moving in, we promise."

The young man ducked his head, eyes pleading with me. "You… won't tell people we were here, will you?" A second passed and my mouth opened to lecture on the dangers of going into abandoned buildings with demons and bandits about, but my words came to a full stop in my throat. Nearing thirty though I was, I wasn't so quick to forget the dalliances of my teenage years.

I held in a laugh, but my voice fluttered with it. "I won't, I swear, but I really need you guys to leave."

"Of course! Thank you!" The young man nodded his head with charged relief. "Oh, Lonnie's mum and dad would've had my head."

"I told you we shouldn't have come here." The woman murmured to him. He shushed her and turned to snatch his tunic from the ground behind her. I swallowed as much of my laughter as I could and turned on a rickety heel to find my men huddled at the mouth of the hallway with Bull's horns plastered above all of their heads. I flapped a hasty hand at them to shoo them off and comically all three hurried to trip backwards back into the shadows.

"Do you need an escort back to the village?" I cleared my throat on my words. "I can have one of my men at least guard you to the edge, in case of any bandits."

"No, Your Worship, thank you." The young man bowed his head and bundled up the woman against his side, holding her close with an arm around her shoulders. "We should be all right, you've made the place a lot safer for us. Thank you, again." I waved them off as they ducked their heads and scurried between my guys, shooting out the front door like a bullet. All three of my gentlemen turned to me and my face went red with laughter.

"Oh my god," I held my hands to my chest, snickering, "that was so — I was having flashbacks, my dudes."

"What?" Dorian laughed with me. "Am I to believe that our chosen by Andraste isn't a virgin?"

" _What_ the fuck. Who told you that? I'm not a vir— _fuck_ you!" He was _laughing_ at me, the asshole. Harder laughter struck me and I was not any better at stopping than they were; my cheeks were red and hurting. Dorian and Bull wore matching grins, and Blackwall was doing his best to hide a smirk. I was not about to justify my sexual activities with a bunch of _boys_. Who were apparently eleven years old, collectively.

"I _hate_ all of you." I announced, smoothing a hand down my chest to calm my giggling. "Launch yourselves into the lake, please." There was no room for argument, my weight turned on my heel as laughter followed me toward the back end of the tavern. According to the mayor's instructions, the dam controls would be located there. The door to the controls unlocked, the key struggling against the disuse, and swung open.

"... hey. Didn't the mayor say the controls were broken when the darkspawn invaded?" I asked the suddenly quiet room. Before us, the large dam controls were in perfect working order. The wooden handles were old and dusty, but whole. The turnstile was intact. I walked up to the closest handle and leaned on it as it came up to my hip. It was solid and resisted. _It's working?_

With narrowed eyes, I set down my maul out of the way and gripped one of the handles. I leaned my full weight into it and slowly with a painful groan, the turnstile gave way and creaked. My arms shook with the effort and I slipped once or twice as I went around the turnstile, but eventually the sound of chains locked up and the tavern shuddered with the force of the water that was rushing under it. I stood straight and wiped my brow and then turned to grin at my companions.

"I _cannot_ believe you." Dorian shook his head, arms crossed. "Did it occur to you to ask for help?"

I paused.

"Oh." I said lamely. "I guess I should have."

Blackwall sighed as if his soul had left his body with Bull's bark of laughter just behind him. Dorian held his hands clapped together in prayer, his eyes twinkling at me with immense amusement. Sheepishly, I retrieved my maul from the ground and hooked it back into its holster, grinning at my crew.

"So." I broke through the door to enter the tavern past them. "The place is shaking. Sounds like it might be working. Should we go check?"

"Might as well." Blackwall sighed. "It will be a while before that much water is drained out." Agreed on the next course of action, we made our way through the tavern, dousing the torches and putting out the fireplace to avoid any additional destruction from unattended flames. The chatter of rain could still be heard from outside and we all avoided leaving for the longest minute possible.

With a sigh, I led us outside into the downpour and locked the door behind us. _Don't need anymore escapades in my absence._ Once shut, I turned back to the long walkway toward inland, but with only a few steps out there was a deafening cacophonous roar that shattered the air and twisted the rain as it fell. So close was the noise that my eardrum on my right side popped and knocked me to my feet. My hands slapped over both ears and I waited until the whirlwind from flapping wings passed with the beast's shadow.

Looking up, the beast flew over us with another screech, the patterned body glowing against the rain and dim light of the sky. Alternating stripes of browns and whites with blotches of purple splattered the dragon's body, horns curved forward over its face like a battle-helmet. Its tail whipped and cracked just over the walkway as its body twisted to make a sharp turn and circle us before disappearing into the storm clouds.

"Fuck you, you stupid reptile!" I shouted into the storm with a pinky twisting in my right ear. No blood came away in my hand, the pressure of the roar had only disrupted the equalization within my ear. _Good, last thing I need to deal with an ear infection from a ruptured eardrum. Fucking asshole._ After a hard glare at the clouds, I checked on my teammates.

"You do realize you just tried to shout a dragon down, right?" Bull was struggling to keep in his laughter. Blackwall's gaze had followed the dragon as it left us, a worried frown on his lips. Dorian shared Bull's amusement at my childish reaction.

" _Fus Ro Dah_ , motherfucker." I pouted angrily and waved off their laughter.

"You what?" Bull asked with wild curiosity, moving up to my right side with Blackwall and Dorian following behind us. "Sure as shit that wasn't the common tongue. Or Qunlat."

"I made it up." I shoved at his side, fighting a smile that touched the corner of my lips, and then raised my index finger to my mouth and shushed him; _it's a secret_. He grinned at the implication and seemed to purr with contentment knowing he would be finding out later. _What a goofball._ I missed the looks that Dorian shot at our backs. Blackwall scowled heavily, but we were finally clear of the dragon and continued walking back.

"It seems to be draining at a rapid pace." Dorian peered over the edge of the bridge and glanced down. The water level was decreasing swiftly with water pouring out on the other side of the dam from giant wolf mouths. If the river below hadn't already been swollen from the rains, I would have had a deep concern for the sudden ecological damage I was creating with the influx of water.

"Look at that." Blackwall leaned against the wall close to Dorian, pointing out toward the center of the lake. As the water drained, we could see the bubbling, violent eruption of the Fade from the ground as it broke through the surface and cascaded across the escaping flood.

"He wasn't joking, huh?" I murmured, watching as the Fade snarled upwards into the air. "It really is in the caves. I wonder what's down there…"

"What do you mean, love?" Dorian turned to me with curiosity tilting his head.

"Usually rips in the Fade like that appear because there's energy there, a strong force that's trying to break through." I rested my hands on the parapets and glanced down, but the water hadn't lowered enough for me to spy anything underneath the surface just yet.

"You think the caves are haunted?" Dorian clarified.

"I mean," I gave him a shrug, "I wouldn't be surprised? This place was flooded ten years ago because the darkspawn managed to get to the controls and…" I paused, looking back between the side where the old village of crestwood had been and the other side of the dam that laid bare with the river cutting through the hills.

"You see it, don't you?" Bull questioned me quietly, watching me think through my mental notes. "Doesn't add up, does it?"

"How?" I asked the open air, swiping the rain from my face. Blackwall and Dorian neared us with worried glances between my Qunari and me.

"Enlighten us?" Blackwall prompted with mild annoyance.

"The controls are intact. Pressure is greater on the side of Crestwood than the river, but the place was _flood_." I looked back to Crestwood, but through the rain I had limited field of vision. "How do you flood a lake if the lake didn't already exist?"

"The mayor told us that Old Crestwood sits under the lake." Blackwall interjected with a confused frown and he patted the stone parapets. "But look at the dam, it's built with the river on the other side."

"Nothing here makes geological sense." I replied, pointing to both sides of the dam. "Why hasn't the river refilled _this_ side of the dam? How come the lake is the only large body of water?"

"Could a river be diverted?" Dorian asked the group, his own matching frown at his lips. "This flooding happened ten years ago, the darkspawn had overpowered the villagers and taken over the dam, they may have released the controls by accident and the mayor had the river diverted to avoid flooding on _this_ side."

"Even _if_ it was by accident," I derailed him with a wave of my hand, "why would darkspawn _care?_ Why would you flood a hunting ground? What does it matter if the people in the village drowned?"

"Darkspawn kill wantonly, but they don't have enough intelligence to plan something like that." Bull shook his head and tipped his chin toward Old Crestwood. "All they would care about is the slaughter. As far as we know, Corypheus is the only one with that kind of mental capacity."

"Otherwise we would have been massively overrun during the last Blight." Blackwall rubbed a gloved hand down across his face. "Are we speculating that someone other than darkspawn started the flood?"

"Who else would be able to get into the tavern?" I asked him pointedly. The keys jingled in my grip as I raised them into sight. "The mayor said these keys belonged to the old gamekeeper, which means he's the only one that had access to the tavern _and_ the controls."

"And nothing in the tavern was broken or destroyed." Bull agreed with a nod of his head. "The bandits already have a fortress, there would be no reason to restore a useless tavern, and the lake ensures the main road is the _only_ road."

"But if the gamekeeper is the one that flooded the village, and the mayor had the keys, why did he wait so long to clear the area?" Dorian asked us, his voice increasingly angry. The implications flying around were devastating. To think someone had killed their own people, but for what reason? Surely not to kill the darkspawn?

"Oh no." I breathed, my heart shuddering with a vicious crack. I glanced back at Old Crestwood, the water reduced to see the lake bottom. "Oh my god, that can't be…"

"Boss?" Bull leaned over to catch my attention. "What is it?"

"What if… holy _fuck_ ," I muttered vehemently, "What if someone flooded the village to kill the darkspawn?"

"Madness." Blackwall heatedly rejected the thought. "Why would anyone sacrifice their _people_?"

"One for the many." I replied sadly, turning to meet his angered gaze. "Why _wouldn't_ you? It's good math."

"Those were living people!" Blackwall barked. Dorian leaned away from him, alarmed at the sudden outburst. He remained quiet, his hands folded to his lap as he waited for the verbal storm to break.

"Not if the Blight had afflicted them." Bull reminded him quietly with his expression carefully neutral, any humor or amusement had been wiped from his face. "That someone may have done it to save the rest of the village."

"No one has the power to judge that cost." Blackwall replied hotly. "There must have been other ways. Innocents don't deserve to die because mass murder was _easier_."

"I…" I was very ready to tell him I agreed, that I wouldn't have brought such a blow to innocent people, but my throat tugged and my heart had me pause. _Wouldn't I, though? If the village was overrun with plague and the only way to save the rest of my people was to —_ nothing was so black and white. Blackwall narrowed on my hesitation.

"Inquisitor?" Blackwall demanded.

"We're speculating." I answered him, tucking the keys away. "Let's deal with the rift first, and then we'll deal with what happened ten years ago." The answer sounded hollow to my ears, but it was the best I could offer him. I wasn't about to damn people to imprisonment or death over theories. We needed proof. We had to stop the dead and find the mayor.

 _This is going to be a long day._


	45. ACT II: Into the Depths We Go

**ACT II:** _Into The Depths We Go_

* * *

The ground was flat and tilting. The earth slumped and sucked at our heels. The water had been drained away, but the rain continued and the ground had no time to recover. We found much what one would expect if a lake was drained away: plantlife sagged with its weight with no water to support it, the old homes were soggy and drooping, groaning as boards and roofing came loose once exposed to the air.

And the dead. They were numerous.

Skeletons that had been held at bay by the weight of the water or that hadn't found a way to shamble out from the depths could see us clearly. The wandered toward us only to fall prey to our blows. Bull and I could make quick work of the shamblers. They were animated, but animation did not save them from decay or the gnawing chew of acidic lake water.

"Is it… is it just me, or do they feel like…." I struggled to find my words. The skeletons held no weapons and were silent as they moved. Not even their bones creaked with their steps.

"Like they aren't putting up a fight?" Bull finished for me. He gripped a skeleton close by and picked it up by its skull. The jaw fell from its hinge and with a good shake, the skull snapped off from the spine. I shuddered as Bull sighed and tossed away the skull.

"Why would they?" Blackwall carefully stepped around a skeleton at his feet. "These weren't warriors. They were civilians."

"What is commanding them?" Dorian asked, the staff he held was lazily drifting in his grip, the end of it near his heels as he walked with us.

"Nothing but the Fade." I answered, listening to Solas' lessons echo through my thoughts. "The Fade has enough violent emotion here to sustain these poor souls. They're probably trapped."

"Meaning if the rift is closed, then we can put these souls to rest." Dorian concluded with a nod. "Now, if only those caves were _not_ on the other side of the lake." I rested with my elbow propped on the pommel of my maul, the head of which was my support with it wedged between two rocks. My gaze floated over the corpse of Old Crestwood, my thoughts whirling.

 _The caves definitely need to be cleared._ My gaze shot to the far end of the shore, where the docks would be bare and the land swept up toward the old camp that the Inquisition had set up to prepare for our long stay. _But something doesn't feel right. It's too… quiet. No Wardens. No demons. No darkspawn._

"Boss?" Bull prompted from my right side, the tips of his horns barely in my field of vision.

"I don't like it." I replied quietly. That brought the attention of all three men to me. I shook my head and kicked at the head of my maul to swing it back up into my grip and holster it. "I don't like how _planned_ this feels." Bull looked out over the dead village, steam escaping from his snort.

"You feel the rope, but can't see it." He added thoughtfully.

I snapped my fingers at him. " _That's_ it. Someone's got my end of the leash and I don't know who the fuck it is."

"Charming." Dorian chuckled. "Are we expecting a trap, then?"

"Something to that foul taste." Blackwall agreed, leaning against his shield. "I say we meet it head-on."

"Damn if you do, damn if you don't, right?" I nodded. Something itched. Some caught fabric or piece of needle pricked and teased at my skin. The blood in my ears rushed and my heart hammered in my neck. _What is that? Where the fuck is that coming from?_ Something was amiss and it was making me sick to dwell on it.

My crew and I spent the better part of an hour navigating through the mud and slick rocks. _Spindleweed everywhere_. Almost all of the cabins we found were gutted and swept through, the floodwaters consumed the personal items and lives of the residents of Old Crestwood. Before long, the itching feeling that settled in my bones had grown to uncomfortable static and when we stumbled upon a rift, I realized why.

 _Oooh, no. My radar got bigger._

"There aren't any demons." Dorian commented as we spied the rift from the safety of distant hillcrests.

"There isn't anything alive here. No reason to come through." I speculated. _Though, even without the soul to possess, the demon could still come through and cause some chaos._ The rift hummed with a quiet buzzing of white noise and trembled through the air like a withering flower. It was strong, but caved with sorrow. It, like the inhabitants around it, had very little will to fight.

"I almost feel bad." I murmured to my group, taking my weapon from my holster.

"You would feel worse if you left them to suffer." Dorian replied.

"Well, yeah." I answered softly. It had been ages since I faced a rift, and to come across one that felt so dead already was hugely unnerving. It was like waiting for a rattlesnake to strike, but you couldn't hear the tail end go off. We approached cautiously. Skeletons rose from the mud with some missing limbs and others broken in half. It was a sorry sight to see. Bull stomped forward on heavy feet and without much effort reached for the creaking creatures and tore their heads from their spines.

"Watching you do that is mildly upsetting." Dorian murmured, staying just out of reach of the rift. I walked up to it, dancing around some of the stones to get even footing in case something did decide to burst through as I closed it.

"What _you_ do is mildly upsetting, v — _mage_." Bull replied darkly. He hurriedly corrected from _Vint_ at the nasty look I shot his way, clearly slapping him with a _don't you dare_ glare. I would have laughed at the fumble if I wasn't already focusing on keeping my stomach steady from the turbulent emotions coming from the rift.

The rift glowed in the darkness of the storm, swirling with the wind and dripping in the rain. The faint echoes coming from within tore at my heart. Gentle screams and hollow sobs of voices that couldn't escape the flood. My eyes closed and with a shaking arm, I rose my left hand and reached for the tear in the Veil. There was a tug and my eyes flashed over. The tether appeared between my palm and the rift, but the normal tug of war was absent.

My fingers curled around the meat hook attached to my tendon and with a step back, I gave it a steady pull. A hissing noise came from within the depths of the rift and for a second I irrationally feared I had set off a bomb. The rift burst at the seams and the screaming became louder, the hot white noise blistered up my arm and through my shoulders, chewing at my neck. A wince hit my face, but I remained planted and continued to pull. The rain was the only reason I wasn't sweating bullets.

"C'mon, you." I muttered to it, twisting my wrist instinctively, as if I could tighten my grip on the tether. The rift wiggled in the air, the screaming turned to shouting, indistinctive words popped through the air, warnings and calls for help, children wailed through the darkness and then the sudden memory of rushing ice water swallowed my mind. Reflexively, I yanked on the tether and the rift's jaws snapped shut.

I hadn't realized I dropped to my knees. Tears stung my eyes and carefully I placed my hands out on the mud to hold myself up. Bull's ankles came into view and he hunched down with me, waiting. Dorian's hand came to rest on the space between my shoulders, his fingertips ghosting along my neck.

"Oh, my darling dove." Dorian murmured sympathetically. "Are they all like that?"

"Oh." I whispered into the rain. My blurry gaze came up to Dorian's chest. "That's… right. You haven't seen one closed before, huh?"

"No, and the stories fail to capture _that_." Dorian smoothed his hand down my back and my muscles felt weak. We hadn't fought this rift like the others, but it had been just as draining. My heart shuddered weakly in my chest and with a sigh, I leaned back onto my haunches. My hands patted my knees and with some effort, I stood to my feet.

"Not to be dramatic, but. Yeah." I cleared my throat. I shook the mud from my hands and rubbed at the back of my neck. "They're mostly like that. Each rift is different, depending on the area. But. Yeah."

"Are they all painful?" Dorian asked gently.

I nodded, distracted, "Yeah."

The looks Dorian and Blackwall faced me with were tragic. Bull stood next to me with an eyebrow raised, tilting his head with a small jerk to get us going. Relief fluttered in my chest. _At least someone isn't going to treat me like I'm broken. It's just a rift._ It hadn't been _just a rift_ near on a year ago, but there was no point on dwelling what I couldn't control.

"Ready, steady, go." I led on.

-0-

"I thought we said there would be no demons!" Dorian's spell cracked near our heels, bursting the earth and snagging the Sloth as it hurtled toward us. Caught in the swirls of magic, the Sloth snarled viciously and scraped at the air to reach for Bull. The Qunari met its face with a mighty swing of his maul.

I had ducked around him to startle the Rage coming behind the Sloth, distracting it as Blackwall lunged from its flank and smacked it heartily with his shield. With the demon stunned by the blow, I skidded closer and rocketed my maul's face into the demon's gullet. There was a vomit of flame as the creature howled and locked its claws over my maul, but I only used that to yank it forward and kiss my fist.

"I said it was a theory, dandelion!" I shouted back, twisting my maul out of the demon's hands and twirling it over my palm with the momentum to bring the head down and knock it against the demon's footing. It screamed only to gurgle as Blackwall's sword speared through its thick neck. The heat of the demon's body disappeared into the rain, its form slumping briefly before it crackled into energy, fading back into the Veil.

I shook out my head. "They must be coming from the caves."

"Naturally, if the rift is in there." Blackwall tapped the end of his shield against the ground, remnants of the demons fell from the grooves of his shield.

"Are there bodies down there for them to possess?" Dorian asked, shifting slightly to take cover from the rain under a sloping broken roof. I walked over to him and did the same, leaning against his side as I drained out my ears. _Who knew rain could go up?_ I was starting to miss my desert days.

"They don't always need bodies." I answered with a grunt, smacking my temple lightly. "Some of the more powerful spirits get caught in the rift and shoved through, so they turn into demons."

"Or they're already demons to start." Bull amended, chuckling as he watched me.

"That, too." I sighed as I stood upright. "My best deduction is that the rift in there is pretty massive, so it's just spitting out whoever is close enough, and nobody's happy about it."

"Well, we've found the bodies the Sister told us about. Dorian's marked them with a rune." Blackwall held his hand over his forehead, shielding his eyes from the rain as he spoke. "That leaves finding the entrance to the caves, and possibly the mayor's old home."

"I would be amazed if _any_ evidence survived." Dorian snorted, his hands resting on his staff. "Between the onslaught of the rain and the flooding, by all rights nothing should survive this madness."

"Amen." I grumbled. The skin under my armor itched and burned from being rubbed raw by the wet leathers and weight of my plates. Irritation was beginning to bloom under my scalp and was working its way down to my shoulders. _I need to get out of this rain before I do something regrettable._ And considering the amount of secrets I was holding, that was a _fuck load_ of regrettable things.

" _You!_ " A voice screamed behind us, echoing through the rain. Dorian and I leapt from the dilapidated house, shrieking like banshees, landing right into the awaiting arms of our startled warriors. " _You there! I_ _ **order**_ _you to tell me why nothing here heeds my commands!_ "

"What in the actual fuck." I gasped my held breath, holding my neck instinctively. Bull adjusted his grip to accommodate for my sudden weight, easing me back down to earth from where he held me against his chest, I could feel the rumble of his laughter. Dorian had managed to leap fully into Blackwall's arms, the warrior having cast aside his shield to avoid the collision.

"Maker's balls," Dorian swore viciously, "it's a _spirit_. A sentient one!" The spirit's incorporeal body floated above the ground, its lower torso swirling, the skull hollow and eye sockets deep in darkness. The energies that formed it shifted from orange to yellow, blazing like a sun in the tempest.

" _Silence!_ " The spirit spat at Dorian, its voice and skull warping. " _Let the other one talk!_ "

"Oh, hot christ, it means me." I cautiously stepped the tiniest bit closer to the floating figure. "Hi, hello. Stupid question: are you a spirit or a demon? Just for classification purposes." Bull and Dorian shared a snort behind me. The mage was placed back on his feet with Blackwall shaking his head in disbelief.

" _ **Demon**_ _? Those dolts who would suck this world dry?_ " The spirit rose a bit in the air, the voice snarling in its throat. " _ **I**_ _am called to higher things."_ Good God, was this going to be my play at exorcism? The Mark in my left hand only pulsed faintly and it was a curious thing to feel; _does it not react to 'normal' spirits? Are they stable enough that I can't sense them?_

That was terrifying. No wonder it had managed to sneak up on me.

"What is a spirit like you 'called' to do?" I posed the question politely. Demons had been mindless, striking without cause or fear, and cared nothing for self-preservation. The spirit in front of me, though aggressive, made no push to attack or overwhelm. _Like handling a hot potato. Could be dangerous, could be nothing._

" _I lead armies, kingdoms, lords! I am imperial._ " The spirit glowed bright with pride. " _I am_ _ **Command.**_ "

"Ooh." I exhaled, excitement bubbling in me. "Solas told me about this!"

Bull frowned next to me. "Told you about what?"

"Spirits are embodiments of aspects, of characteristics or traits prominent either in their life, or in our world." Oh, if only Solas had been with me, he would have adored this experience. I would have to remind myself to tell him later. "This spirit wasn't necessarily a person, or if it was, their strongest trait was their commanding presence."

"And this means what for us?" Dorian stayed well behind me, his arms crossed over his chest. "How does one get rid of a spirit when they're commanding everything else around it?" The question rolled around in my head, I desperately tried to pull on any knowledge that Solas had given me, or anything I had from my old world.

"They probably have unfinished business." I murmured thoughtfully. I turned to the spirit, "Command. May I ask why you're here?" The spirit's glow dimmed for a second and sputtered, the rain passing through it with a shimmer.

" _What of it? I felt your coming._ " The spirit paused, pondering me with a tilted head. " _Is there something alike in us?_ " It felt me coming? I hadn't sensed it at all, but considering that the spirit ran on emotion, I wasn't all that surprised. _Fascinating._ What I wouldn't do to have a notebook with me at the moment.

"No," I shook my head, uncertain if the spirit could _actually_ see me, "all you sensed was the Anchor in my hand." The spirit blitzed with some sort of static and shuddered in the air, the voice contorted for a moment.

" _Then you are less than I thought, but feel no shame._ " The spirit lamented heatedly. " _Some must follow those who lead._ " I withheld my thoughts to myself, but a small, amused smirk touched my lips. Some time ago I would have agreed, now it was only a piece of amusement to have anyone or anything call me _less_.

I raised a hand, pacifying it. "Could you tell me what is keeping you here, spirit?"

" _This world!_ " The spirit shrieked, arms akimbo. " _It_ _ **ignores**_ _me! I order the rocks to part, but they do not. I bid the sky draw close, and it stays still!_ "

Blackwall snorted behind me, "What is it expecting? Absolutely obedience?"

"Yes," Dorian answered before I could. He stared at the spirit, his fingers on his chin. "In our dreams, when we are in the Fade, the spirits and demons can make the world anything they need. The mortal world is —"

" _I don't know how you mortals stand it_." The spirit interrupted loudly.

"Why haven't you gone back to the Fade?" I asked politely, fighting a laugh as Dorian shot the spirit an extremely sour look. _How rude,_ I could practically hear it in his voice.

" _I will not be denied. I refuse to leave until something obeys my orders!_ " The spirit demanded. A sigh slipped up through my lips. _Exorcism, here I come. Where's my priest?_ My fingers rose to my temples and rubbed circles into my skin for a moment. _I don't even remember half my prayers._

"Then I feel compelled to help you." I replied, my hands dropping and flashing the spirit a winning smile. "I pledge myself to your service." Bull had a minor convulsion behind me, jerking as if he was about to snatch me back from the jaws of life, but his muscles tightened and he paused with impatience slapped across his face. _The hell was that?_

" _Excellent! I have only one command._ " The spirit brightened happily. " _A creature made of rage had the_ _ **gall**_ _to chase me across the lake. Destroy it in my name and be rewarded!_ "

"Well, I've heard worse orders." I muttered, watching as the spirit floated away from us and back into the rain. My heels brought me around to Bull, my hands on my hips with my head tilted at him curiously.

"Don't give me that look." Bull snorted, steam from his nose. "Did it occur to you _not_ to agree to a bargain before you hear the conditions?"

"What?" I shrugged my shoulders. "It's just a spirit. Not even a very powerful one."

Blackwall shot a look at Bull, brow raised high. "You have lost all privileges in telling me to trust her judgement."

"Hey, goth-man, I am right here." I huffed at him with a brief glare. "I'm not so stupid as to make a deal with a demon, mage or no."

"Yes, well." Dorian seemed reluctant to parry against me, but did so anyway. "Even spirits can be conniving enough to twist their words into binding contracts. For now, I will side with them and ask that you be a bit more careful next time."

"Right, because next time I'm totally going to be able to stop and have a conversation with a demon." I retorted hotly and marched my way past them toward the next cabin. Bull and Blackwall immediately fell into formation on either side of me, with Dorian pulling up the rear.

"Knowing what I know about you, I wouldn't disbelieve it if someone told me you did." Blackwall sighed, picking up his shield and shouldering it. With gusto, I flipped him a vulgar salute I had learned from my days in training with Cullen's troops.

 _Assholes._

-0-

I shut my eyes against the flash of light from Dorian's staff. We had finally found the mayor's old abode and my mage had set a deep, glowing red rune into the wall facing us. I didn't have a standard or flag to set up (not expecting to need one), so this would have to do for our reclamation effort. Dorian stepped away to inspect his work and nodded with satisfaction. It was easily visible through the rain and would allow Harding to start the clean up from a base point.

"Boss," Bull called out from inside the cabin. "You need to see this." Up the stairs I went, the darkness of the mostly intact cabin making it hard for me to spot my Qunari in the back corner. The roof was enough to stave off the rain and I shook my head out as I entered.

"What is it, buddy?" I peered around his arm. He stood at the base of a chest, the lock having been ripped open in his search. The metal securing the chest had rusted, but held. The wood was warped and mangled, but what he held in his hands was only damp. I reached for the scrap of paper. Dorian and Blackwall had made their way inside, noses poking around the empty home.

"There's still some ink on it." I whispered to Bull. I concentrated on the scribbling. "The… work you ordered is done. Did — _do_ what you want. I'll… be — in the hills? Is that what that says?"

Bull peered down as I held the paper up to him. "I'll be in the hills trying to forget it. It's signed Robert." Static shot through my hands and the paper went tight in my grip. _What are the odds? What did he do? Why does the mayor have this?_

"Wasn't that the gamekeep that died when the bandits moved in?" Blackwall muttered behind us, arms crossed.

"And if we're speculating that the controls to the dam had been fixed when the mayor told us they were destroyed…" Dorian continued quietly, his staff tapping against the ground briefly.

"Did Robert fix the controls to flood the village and then run?" I murmured thoughtfully, trying to piece the puzzle together. "But then… why would he — _the work you ordered_?"

"Sounds like the mayor didn't give us the full story." Bull rumbled from over my head. "We're going to have a talk with him before long."

"Fuck," I swore violently, "that's why he — that's why he was against us draining the lake, remember?"

"He passed it off as concern for our wellbeing, but that was a lie." Bull confirmed with a gentle nod. _Of course, Bull caught it when we were having that talk, I just didn't know what he had seen that I missed. Fucking hell._ I rolled up the small scrap of paper and reached into my belt pouch, taking up a potion.

"Anyone hurt?" I asked. Blackwall held out his hand, catching my idea, and swallowed the potion in two gulps. Once the liquid was cleared, I swiped a knife with a handkerchief through it to make sure the scrap of paper wouldn't be further damaged. I stuffed it into the vial and set it back into my pouch.

"Let's go see what we find in those caves." I growled. Dorian and Blackwall parted to allow me passage through them, Bull following closely behind. Thankfully the entrance wasn't too far from the mayor's house. Broken wooden gates sagged under the rain and covered a darkened entrance that led into the mountain. Bull managed to find a few torches just at the mouth and held them up for Dorian.

The lights were lit and we trudged inside.


End file.
